Through the Years
by JessieBess
Summary: A look at Tom and Sybil's relationship through the years. So far covering Tom's Birthdays, Friendship, Sybil's Birthdays, The Servants Ball and Christmas. New chapter posted with a Christmas theme.
1. Chapter 1

**May 1913**

It was a bittersweet birthday for Tom. He was leaving in a few days for England and who knew when he'd be back with his family. Hopefully the job as chauffeur at Downton Abbey in Yorkshire would be a good one. It offered him more money than he could make in Ireland as well as his own cottage. He looked forward to that since he had never even had a bedroom of his own and now he'd have a cottage all to himself. He'd be able to read in peace far late into the night if he wanted to without one of his brothers complaining about the light.

All of his family had shown up at his mother's house much to Tom's surprise. It had turned into a farewell to Tom party as much as a birthday one. There was much laughter, music, dancing and food. Ah his mother's cooking. How he would miss that. She must have known because she had made his favorite dishes.

But it was at moments like this that he did worry a bit about the new direction his life was taking. He knew he'd miss his family, his home, his friends, his Ireland. It didn't seem fair that there was so little opportunity for a lower middle class lad like himself in Ireland. He didn't want to end up in a dead end factory job where one's life slowly ebbed away in an everlasting grind of poverty. Even going to England didn't offer much better opportunity for he'd still be a servant although one with a skill. He'd save as much money as he could. He'd read and write as much as he could. He would come back and he'd be more than a chauffeur.

 **May 1914**

At the urging of Mr. Carson, Tom remained in his cottage. It was doubtful that anyone from the family would need the motor car today after the adventures of Sybil last night. Last night. Tom kept thinking about last night. Sybil had told him she had a charity meeting. She had lied to him. Casually and easily she had lied to him. And that lie might yet cost him his job.

His first thoughts had only been about her safety. Seeing her knocked unconscious and then the blood on her forehead, all he could think about was her well being. She had to be alright. She had to be. Not because of his job, he wasn't even thinking of that at that moment. No it was because he had come to value her as a friend.

He had waited outside the grand doors of Downton. How long had he waited he wasn't sure. It had seemed liked hours until Lady Mary had finally come out to tell him Sybil would be alright. Tom was so relieved to hear that news that he barely registered the rest of what Lady Mary was saying. It wasn't until he was back at the garage that he realized the depth of Sybil's actions and the effect they might have on his job.

The knocking at his cottage door awoke him from his thoughts of last night. With trepidation, fearing that his job had been lost, he braced himself for whatever decision had been made.

But it wasn't Mr. Carson telling him he had been sacked, it was one of the young hall boys. With a nod, the young lad quietly handed Tom two letters and a small package.

From the writing on the wrapping, Tom knew the package was from his mother. Wanting to savor whatever it was she had sent him, he decided to open the letters first.

The letters were from his cousin and his older sister each wishing him a happy birthday in addition to all the news from home. Happy Birthday. Tom had been so wrapped up in the events surrounding Sybil and the counting of the votes that he had forgotten today was his birthday.

The package contained three short notes, one from his mother and each of his sisters that still lived at home. But it was the gifts that brought tears to Tom's eyes. Maura had embroidered a linen handkerchief with two green shamrocks. Katie had made a narrow linen bookmark with colorful embroidery running up the side. His mother's gift was a small book of Irish poems.

Alone in his cottage, Tom stared at his presents. Tears stung his eyes. Maybe it wouldn't be so bad if he did lose his job. He would return to Ireland and his family both of which he missed very much.

But he knew if he went to Ireland, a piece of his heart would remain at Downton. It would be that part that had been captured by a certain young lady. And he knew he would miss her for the rest of his days.

 **May 1915**

As she so often did these days, Sybil found herself going to the garage or rather sneaking off to the garage. She hated that she had to make excuses to see Branson or rather Tom as she thought of him now. Why couldn't she just openly pop into the garage to converse with the chauffeur?

Why was society, and hence her family, so against a friendship between a member of the household and those that served them? Papa was friends with Mr. Bates just as Mary was with Anna. But then, Sybil thought, was it really a friendship between Papa and Mr. Bates or Mary and Anna. Maybe friendship was too strong a word to define those relationships. They were friendly but not friends.

Not friends like she and Tom were. They could talk for hours on a variety of subjects. First it had been women's rights, the vote, Ireland but now it was often the war. Papa didn't think the women of the household needed to know what was going on regarding the war so conversation was always steered in a different direction, or even ignored, if Sybil brought the topic up.

It was through Tom that Sybil knew what was happening in the world. He would save the newspapers for her to read while he worked on the motor cars or that she would sneak into her bedroom to read. She wasn't sure which she preferred reading the papers in the garage or in her room. If in the garage she could immediately ask Tom about what she had read or discuss a point with him.

But alone in her room, she had more time to thoroughly digest what she was reading and more time to form her own opinions which she hoped to share with Tom as soon as possible. She valued his viewpoint and opinions even though they didn't always agree. That was one of the things that she liked most about Tom, he would always listen to her and if he disagreed he would say why but he never called her foolish or demeaned her in any way. He was the first person she had ever met who treated her as though her thoughts and opinions mattered.

When Sybil took her usual seat in the garage, she was surprised to see some letters and a package sitting on the work bench unopened. She did note that all had been mailed from Ireland.

"I'm surprised you haven't opened your mail" Sybil commented as she looked at Tom rising from under one of the motor cars where he had been fixing something.

Tom glanced at the mail on the work bench and then at Sybil. As always his first thought when he looked at Sybil was how beautiful she was. Perched on the chair, dressed in a deep purple dress with a wide white collar that probably cost more than he made in a year, the sunlight streaming in from the window hitting her dark hair just so, she looked so beautiful. How he wanted nothing more than to take her in his arms and hold her tight and kiss those lips.

"Tom" Sybil looked at him with a rather puzzled expression on her face. "Tom" she called again.

"I'm sorry I was just thinking about something" he finally remarked.

"If you are too busy I could just get the paper and come back later."

"No" he said rather too hurriedly. "No . . . it's fine now" and smiled at her with a smile he wish would flutter her heart the way her smiles did his.

It had been almost a year since he had held her hand at the garden party. Although she had taken to coming to the garage almost every day there had been no more physical contact between them.

"I can't believe you haven't opened your mail especially your package." Sybil spoke once again. "You don't often get packages from Ireland do you?"

Without thinking Tom replied, "Usually only for Christmas and my birthday."

"Oh" Sybil's eyes suddenly went wide as she realized what he had said. "Today is your birthday?"

Tom grinned at her. "Aye it is."

"I'm sorry I didn't know." Sybil stammered. How could she consider him such as close friend but not know such details as when was his birthday. Looking at the small package Sybil was hit by the thought of how different their lives really were. Her birthdays, as well as that of her sisters, had always been lavish occasions with gifts, their favorite food for dinner, and of course a beautifully decorated cake. If she got a present this small it would be an expensive piece of jewelry. But for Tom …

"I was saving them to open tonight" Tom commented. He didn't add that he wanted to fix a cup of tea to drink while he relished his letters and the gift. He might have preferred a nip or two of good Irish whiskey but that might have made him too maudlin. Although he always missed his family, he was reminded more so at Christmas and his birthday what he was missing by being here at Downton.

Sybil rose from her seat by the work bench. "I'm sorry I didn't know. There is still so much we need to learn about each other" Sybil blushed "as friends of course."

"We should know birthdays, and favorite foods, and …" Sybil continued.

Tom interrupted Sybil as he asked earnestly "Are we friends Sybil?"

Sybil looked at him with surprise all over her face. "Of course Tom. I consider you my friend."

"Then that is the best birthday present I could hope for." Tom noted how she blushed before she lowered her head in that way she often did.

 **May 1916**

When he had come to Downton, he never imagined that he'd still be here three years later. To his surprise he found he loved the job. His lordship was a good employer, certainly much better than Tom thought an aristocratic Englishman would be. He enjoyed driving his lordship's motor cars and kept them in fine running condition. Tom had always loved tinkering with all things mechanical and certainly motor cars were no exception to that. He could lose himself for hours working on one of the motor cars.

Good working conditions, good living conditions, good wages, Tom would enumerate for anyone the reasons for his continuing to work at Downton. But the real reason was one that he never said aloud, never admitted to anyone, in fact he tried to tell himself it wasn't really the reason he stayed. But he knew … he knew that she was the reason he stayed.

Lady Sybil Crawley.

The very thought of her would put a smile on his face. His day was made brighter whenever he saw her. He knew he was falling in love with her. He had had two serious relationships when he was still in Ireland. One had almost led to the altar but in the end Tom knew it wasn't what he wanted. He didn't want to be tied down in marriage at such a young age. But now he knew, as wonderful as those relationships had been at the time, he knew he didn't feel then like he did now when he was with Sybil.

He never knew when she would show up in the garage but it seemed like almost every day now she would. With the war going on, she had less reasons to go shopping, less reasons for ordering the car, so instead she would come to the garage to see him.

He was wiping his hands on a clean cloth, having just finished changing two of the spark plugs, when Sybil entered the garage. Although she had walked purposely into the garage, she now stood looking rather shyly with both her hands behind her back.

"Did I catch you at a bad time?" Sybil asked somewhat bashfully.

"Of course not" Tom replied. "I just finished what I was doing so it's a perfect time actually."

"Good" Sybil uttered before she realized it.

Tom looked at her wondering why she seemed hesitant or unsure of herself which wasn't like her.

"You can't spend all day working when it's your birthday."

"You remembered?" Tom was surprised but secretly pleased that she had remembered.

"Of course I remembered. I remember the things you tell me" Sybil replied with a smile on her face.

"Maybe we could have some tea?" Sybil asked. "Or maybe a cold bottle of cider?"

"It will have to be tea I'm afraid. I don't have any cider" Tom replied. "Although cider does sound nice."

"Well it's a good thing I just happen to have a bottle" Sybil said as she finally brought one of her arms out from behind her back. She was holding a bottle of cider. "Sorry it's just the one bottle … we'll have to share."

"I think I can manage that" Tom laughed as he took the bottle from her. He searched the work bench until he finally found his tea mug. "I only have the one mug."

"Or we could just share the bottle" Sybil boldly stated.

Tom looked at her in amazement and thought this woman will never fail to amaze me.

"Although I guess one of us should use the mug so we can make a toast."

"A toast?" Tom asked.

"Of course, it is your birthday. We need to toast for your good health and a good year" Sybil responded in all sincerity.

"Another English tradition I suppose?"

"Well I don't know if it's English but we always do a toast although it's usually with wine or champagne" Sybil admitted. "Sorry I couldn't get a bottle of either."

"It's the thought that counts" Tom countered. "I'm pleased you thought of cider."

He poured some of the cider into the now clean mug and offered it to her noting that she was still standing with her other hand behind her back.

As he tapped her mug with the bottle, he offered the following toast, a traditional Irish one.

"To all the days here and after  
May they be filled with fond memories, happiness, and laughter"

Sybil laughed. "I thought I was suppose to make the toast but that was better than anything I could think of."

After they both had taken a sip of the cider, Sybil brought forth her other hand which held a brightly wrapped package. "Happy Birthday Tom" she said as she handed him the gift.

"Sybil" Tom said with genuine surprise in his voice. "I …I … I don't know what"

Sybil laughed "Just open it Tom. Now."

Tom smiled as he tore the paper and saw the book.

"I noticed you had taken it several times from papa's library"

"You mean you took your father's book?" Tom exclaimed.

"No silly. I bought it. I certainly couldn't have papa think you pilfered one of his books."

Tom looked back and forth between the book and Sybil. He couldn't believe how thoughtful she had been in selecting his present. For that matter he couldn't believe she had bought him a birthday present.

Yes … it was Lady Sybil Crawley that kept him at Downton.

 **May 1917**

The war had changed so much including Downton which was now serving as a convalescent home for wounded officers. It was at Sybil's, or rather Nurse Crawley's, urging that had happened.

However, an unintended consequence of that was that Sybil now had more freedom that she had ever had. She worked at both the Downton Cottage Hospital and at the convalescent home. She worked long hours but they varied each day. There was now a constant stream of people coming and going from the Abbey including nurses, doctors, and patients. There was no one to monitor her comings and goings.

In many ways all of this made it so much easier for Tom and Sybil to be together and they certainly took advantage of it. While her family may have thought she was working at the hospital, she would spend hours with Tom in the garage. On his half days off they often drove somewhere on the estate, away from any prying eyes, and shared a picnic luncheon. Oh how Tom looked forward to those days off.

Although Sybil had not yet given him an answer to his proposal which he had made back in the fall when he took her to York for her nurses training, they had become even closer when she had returned from her course. Outside of Isobel, he was the only one she could discuss her work with. While he wasn't too enthused listening to some of the more harrowing stories, he knew she needed someone to talk to and therefore he was more than willing to oblige. He'd do anything that brought him closer to her.

Today had been an especially busy one for Tom. He had taken Lord Grantham to a meeting in York, then returned to Downton to help move patients from the cottage hospital to the abbey, then returned York to get his lordship. With all the extra work he had been doing lately he was quite tired and retired to his cottage fairly early.

He almost didn't answer the knock on his cottage door. Shouldn't he be able to have some time off, some time just to be by himself. But the knocker was rather insistent, so Tom felt he had no choice but to answer the impatiently waiting visitor.

To his surprise this turned out to be Sybil. Seeing him with his shirt undone and no tie on, Sybil suddenly realized how late it was but she hadn't been able to come any earlier.

"I … I … couldn't let the day go by" Sybil finally managed to stammer. "I had to wish you a happy birthday."

Seeing her there, standing in his doorway, holding a small cake, Tom felt he was in heaven.

 **May 1918**

When it started it was said the war would be over by Christmas; yet now it was almost four years later and still the war raged on. Sybil was horrified by much of what she had seen. If it wasn't for Tom, she wasn't sure she would have gotten through the past year. She knew that no matter how long the day, he would be waiting for her. He would comfort her if the day had been bad, he would laugh with her if that is what she wanted, he would make her forget, if even for just a little while, of the war.

Tom wanted the war to be over for many reasons. He had seen the effects of it on the patients, on Sybil, on Mr. Matthew. William, kind, sweet William was dead way before anyone should be.

After the war she had said that was when she would give him an answer to his proposal. It wasn't easy waiting so long especially when he thought … he knew … she loved him. He was sure of it.

Last week had been his birthday. He thought that Sybil had so much on her mind that she might not remember it and when she had asked him to drive her to Thirsk to visit a former patient that day, his heart a sunk a little bit. She had never mentioned an attachment to any patient but there she was waiting for him holding a large covered basket when he drove up to the front door of Downton.

They were only a couple of miles from the house when Sybil began giving him directions. It was when the last turn was a dirt road, little more than a wide path, that he began to suspect something.

He felt a bit of anger with himself when he realized it was all a ruse. She had managed to get them away from the garage for a few hours. For a few glorious hours that had sat talking and eating a wonderful picnic lunch as if they had no cares or worries at all. He knew that this would be one of his best birthdays ever regardless of what happened in the future.

 **May 1919**

They were Ireland. His greatest wish had come true. When she had mentioned his upcoming birthday, he said he already had his present … he had gotten it when she had agreed to marry him and come to Ireland to live.

She had told him he was silly, that everyone should celebrate their birthday.

So on this birthday, the first one he was back in Ireland, they spent it at the local pub surrounded by his family and friends. Sybil was just getting use to the idea that in Ireland many special occasions were celebrated at the local pub. While Tom was now openly with Sybil and they no longer had to hide their relationship, he found that living at his mother's house they had less private time than at Downton. At least at the pub, he could hold her in his arms as they danced and once or twice managed to sneak a kiss.

"Happy Birthday Tom" Sybil whispered in Tom's ear as they danced.

"It will always be happy as long as you're with me Sybil" Tom replied.

 **A/N: I enjoyed writing this one and when I finished I thought of other possibilities such as Tom's Christmases or Sybil's birthdays or Christmases or a continuation of this one with future years either canon or noncanon. Would any of those be of interest to you?**


	2. Friendship

**1913**

" _Will you have your own way, do you think? With the frock?"_

It was audacious of him to speak to speak to her and even more so to give her the pamphlets on women's rights and the vote for it was an unwritten rule that the servant did not speak first. But when he had overheard her talking to her mother and sister, as he drove them home from the village, he had been struck by her words and demeanor.

Like him, she was interested in politics and women's rights. Like him, she was interested in more than just the world in which they conducted their everyday life. Like him she was lonely.

It was hard to imagine that one could be surrounded by people yet still be lonely. She had her family but they weren't interested in talking about politics or women's rights or any of the other subjects she was interested in. No their conversations revolved around the latest gossip, dress fittings, and upcoming social engagements.

Tom found that conversations in the servants hall weren't any more stimulating. He was appalled that they seemed to accept their lives as servants with only the housemaid Gwen yearning for another sort of job. He found he was the only one to read the newspapers Carson left on the table after his lordship was finished with them so holding conversations about things he read was rather one-sided.

Gregarious by nature, Tom found the life of a chauffeur rather lonely. He spent a great deal of his time driving people around, people with whom he was not to talk to, and then waiting for them while they attended to whatever business or dinner or party he had brought them to, and then driving them home once again in silence. When no one needed the motor car he was in the garage working on the cars or washing them. Indeed, Lord Grantham could boast he had the finest running vehicles that were always cleaned and shined to perfection.

The job did afford him quite a bit of free time. He would pop into the servants hall for a cup of tea, and maybe a biscuit or two, but the house servants would usually be too busy for a chat. Sometimes he'd find Anna or Gwen sitting there repairing a blouse or Mr. Bates cleaning shoes and he'd chat while they got on with their work.

" _Will you have your own way, do you think? With the frock?"_

With those words, so innocently spoken, began a friendship between the lady and the chauffeur. He had broken one of the unwritten rules of service, he had spoken to her first. But as he would come to know, she was unlike most of those of her class.

 **1914**

He couldn't believe none of the other servants took advantage of his lordship's library. Tom thought he was in heaven with so many books at his fingertips. He was quite surprised by the variety of the collection and doubted whether Lord Grantham even realized some of the books he owned; Tom was positive his lordship wasn't aware of some of the leftist and socialist political books sitting there in his vast and ornate library.

Sybil had always loved to read. As a child she devoured books on pirates and explorers. Those stories stirred her imagination and took her to faraway lands, lands so different from the orderly world of Downton. As she grew her tastes changed very little with books on faraway places still her favorite although she now read the occasional romance.

But since becoming friends with Branson she started reading books on history and politics. The two of them could sit for hours, that is if they actually had hours to do so, discussing the merits of such works. Branson pointed out books and authors on the subjects that were becoming dear to her heart such as women's rights.

" _Her husband will tell her what her opinions are."_ Sybil was indignant.

"Can you believe Granny actually said that?" Sybil thundered as she paced up and down the garage waving her arms about as if looking for something to hit or throw. "It was bad enough that Papa was admonishing me for attending the rally. When Mary actually stood up for me and said that I'm entitled to my opinions, that's how Granny replied."

Tom was both amused and outraged, amused at how mad Sybil was yet sharing her outrage that a woman couldn't have her own opinions. During the past few months he had found an unexpected kindred soul in Sybil with their similar interests and beliefs. She was so different from his image of a rich English aristocrat.

"As if I can't have opinions separate and different from my husband!" Sybil continued her pacing. "What if I don't have a husband does that mean I can't have any opinions?"

When Tom didn't answer, she stopped her pacing and looked at him. "Well?"

Before Tom could formulate a reply, Sybil challenged him "Why are you so concerned with women's rights?"

That was an easy one for Tom to answer. "I have three younger sisters. I want them to have a choice as to what to do with their lives. I want something more for them than factory work or being a servant or being married at eighteen and a mother at nineteen."

Sybil was surprised at the depth of emotion in Tom's voice. "That's why I'm working here. I send home half my pay to my mother so my sisters can stay in school so they can have a chance that I didn't have."

Tears actually welled in Sybil's eyes as she realized the sacrifices Tom had made. He was so bright and articulate, she knew that if he had had the money to go to university he could have been so much more than a servant.

But Tom wasn't finished talking. "Especially my sister Neve, she's only fourteen but she's so bright. I think she'll go to university. There's no reason why women can't be doctors or solicitors or whatever they want to be."

"Your sisters are lucky to have a brother like you Branson." Tom could detect a bit of wistfulness in Sybil's voice.

"It's so hard to see people like your family that have the means but see no value in educating their daughters." Tom thought he was rather bold to say such a thing but knew Sybil would take no offense.

"I always wanted to go to school" Sybil quietly confessed. "But Granny would say why do I need an education? To them my destiny is to marry well and produce an heir."

"Is that what you want Sybil?"

His question gave her pause, no one had ever asked her such a thing before. "I … I'm not sure what I want … I … I think I have more value than just being someone's wife. I want to make a difference in this world" she finally managed to say.

He knew his question had opened a door for her and that she would spend time thinking about it. She already had a look on her face like she was a million miles away.

"Are you still going to do the canvassing?"

For the first time since she entered the garage Sybil gave him one of her beaming smiles as she tilted her head upwards in that manner she had. "Of course I am."

 **1915**

It was pouring rain outside so he was quite surprised when he heard footsteps entering the garage for he couldn't imagine that his lordship would want to go anywhere in the motor car in this weather. His back was to the garage doors as he was busy at his work bench cleaning some of his work tools which had seemed like the perfect type of job to do on a day like this.

"I might have known you'd be busy even on a day like this."

Her polished voice was a welcomed surprise.

He couldn't help but grin at her for she made every day sunny to him. Even though the rain was teeming she had somehow managed to make it to the garage looking quite dry. Of course that enormous umbrella which she was now shaking and splattering rain drops all over the garage floor would have probably kept the two of them dry.

Lifting a clean rag, he held it out at her and smiled "You could help me if you like."

She laughed as she finally set the umbrella down and walked towards him. "Do you think you can afford my wages?"

"Would a cup of tea do? And I have some wonderful biscuits my mother sent me."

Nodding her head, she took the rag from his hand, "that's sounds wonderful."

She sat down on one of the two stools that stood in front of the workbench. When she first started coming to the garage, there was only the one stool and she always felt rather awkward sitting there while Tom had to stand usually leaning against one of the cars or the work bench. Then one day a second stool rather mysteriously appeared. She had no idea where it had come from until a few weeks later as she was sneaking back into the house through the servants entrance she overheard Thomas complaining to O'Brien than someone had pinched one of the stools from the boot room.

Tom set the kettle on the one burner hot plate, then opened a tin and measured out the tea. When he realized Sybil's visits to the garage were becoming a frequent occurrence, he had brought the tea kettle and mugs from his cottage to the garage along with a tin of tea which he constantly refilled unbeknownst to Mrs. Patmore.

"I'll just go get the biscuits" he murmured as he darted out the back door of the garage which led to the chauffeur's cottage. Actually it led to an old storage room which Tom used to store extra supplies or tools that would clutter up the garage and from this room there was a covered passageway to his cottage.

When Tom returned not two minutes later, carrying a box, he found Sybil sitting on the stool looking at the array of tools sitting on the work bench as well as those neatly hanging from pegs on the wall.

As he sat the box down, she exclaimed "She must have sent quite a lot of biscuits."

Tom looked from the box to Sybil and then back to the box again. Chuckling he answered "Not really but I wanted to show you some other things. I just got the box yesterday."

As Sybil poured their tea, Tom opened a brightly colored tin that had once held coffee. He used the lid as a plate and put a few biscuits on it. Once they were both settled with their mugs of steaming tea, Tom wiped his hands before pulling out a piece of white linen that looked to be about ten inches square.

"My youngest sister, Katie, has learned to embroider" he proudly stated as he held the piece so that Sybil could see the scene of brightly colored flowers. "I'm going to hang it up in my sitting room. She'll be so pleased when I write to her and tell her."

"It is lovely. I'd be embarrassed to show you the pieces I did. I guess I just don't have the patience."

Tom then put it back in the box and brought out three photographs and laid them on the work bench.

Pointing to a picture of a smiling young looking couple, dressed in their Sunday finest, proudly holding a baby Tom stated "That is my oldest sister Kathleen and her husband Liam with my niece Kalin."

Making sure her hands were clean from any biscuit crumbs, Sybil picked up the photograph to get a better look. She smiled as she remembered how proud Tom seemed when he told her he had become an uncle and asked her advice on a baby gift he could send his new niece. On their next trip to Ripon, Tom had gone in a couple of stores with Sybil looking at various baby clothes and toys. He wanted something that little Kalin could use longer than the tiny baby bonnets or socks that they looked at.

Sybil had then suggested a silver rattle but seeing the price Tom just shook his head as he did with the baby fork and spoon set she showed him. It was at times like that when Sybil was reminded of the difference in their worlds.

In the end Tom finally settled on an illustrated edition of _Mother Goose_. "I think that's a fine gift" Sybil bubbly declared "and a book is so appropriate from her Uncle Tom."

The other two photographs were of Tom's mother and siblings at baby Kalin's christening. Sybil could see the tears in Tom's eyes as he talked about his family. But his unshed tears diminished as he spent the rest of the afternoon regaling Sybil stories of his family.

By the time she left the garage she felt she knew so much more about the man who had become her friend.

 **1916**

The war that wouldn't last till Christmas was now over two years old and with no end in sight. It seemed to Sybil that every month she would hear of the wounding or the death of someone she knew in places that she had never heard of Ypres, Marne, the Dardanelles, the Ardennes. Just two months ago her good friend Tom Bellasis had died at Verdun. With the Battle of the Somme now raging, Sybil feared hearing of more deaths.

She had bought a large wall map of Europe that also showed parts of the non-European countries surrounding the Mediterranean Sea. Tom had nailed it to one of the walls in the garage so they could easily see it as they discussed the war.

When Sybil received one of her letters telling her of a friend or even an acquaintance who was serving somewhere in the war, she and Tom would find the location on the map and Sybil would mark an X if she knew of a death there. The same for when the read the newspapers on the latest battlefields, they'd find it on the map. This was their way of charting the course of the war.

But it wasn't all doom and gloom in the garage. Thinking that Sybil needed something to cheer her up, Tom had bought a dart board. He wasn't surprised that Sybil had never played.

"I guess you've never been to a pub then?" he asked her trying to look rather solemn.

"And where would I go to pub around here?"

"So that's no pub, no darts. How about drinking a pint?" he was certainly in a mischievous mood.

"A pint of what?" she surprised him with her seriousness.

"Of ale me darlin"

Sybil just rolled her eyes but she could feel her cheeks blushing at his use of the word darlin. And why does that so sound lovely in his Irish lilt she wondered.

"So that's no pub, no darts, no ale. Does your family do anything for fun?"

"We play cards or board games Tom. Not games that involve throwing things" she had said with a bit of laughter in her voice.

"Well I think your education needs to be broadened a bit. We'll start with the darts and then maybe we can progress to the ale and the pub." Sybil felt her cheeks blushing even more.

Sybil proved to be a quick learner and it wasn't many weeks before she could beat Tom. Of course there were a few new dents in the walls and even the ceiling, that one had amazed him and he had to find a ladder to remove the dart firmly stuck there. She had surprised him with her competitive spirit and he had witnessed more than a few pouts when she lost.

One afternoon after winning three consecutive games Sybil looked totally pleased with herself. "I think Mr. Branson you might have spent too much time on the ale and not the darts" she laughed.

The darts had served its purpose of taking Sybil's mind off the war. But one day she came to the garage and Tom could see that she had been crying. He knew before she said a word that she had learned of another lad's death. That day she just sat there watching him work on one of the cars while he held a one sided conversation. After an hour she quietly left the garage having not uttered one word.

But it was a changed Sybil who came to the garage two days later. She was energetic and excited.

"I'm going to become a nurse." She then proceeded to tell him about cousin Isobel's suggestion and offer to help her secure a training sport.

It was with a heavy heart that he left her at York. He was afraid he had ruined everything with his proposal. His only hope was that she had asked him to stay.

She had been gone for a month when Tom received a long letter from her. His heart soared since just the day before while driving her ladyship and old lady Grantham he had overhead her ladyship complaining that she had only received one very short note from Sybil.

In her letter to him, Sybil detailed her schooling which Tom had to admit seemed rather grueling. But she had managed to have some fun.

" _After our two exams a group of us have gone to the local pub. I never admitted I hadn't ever been to a pub or tasted a pint, I want everyone to know me as Sybil Crawley not Lady Sybil. Anyway, I can proudly report that I am the darts champion. I've even beaten some of the doctors and the patients! So you better start practicing!"_

 **1917**

As the war dragged on, Tom began to fear for his job as there was very little need of the family for a full time chauffeur. Except for the occasional trip Robert made to York for meetings or regimental dinners, no one ventured far from the Abbey. Shopping excursions to Ripon or Thirsk by Cora or her daughters had become infrequent. It seemed like his only real duty was to take Sybil back and forth from the cottage hospital and now with the Abbey turned into a convalescent home she often worked at the house instead of the hospital.

As always Tom kept the motor cars in tip-top shape but even that only took up so much time. To keep busy, and needed, Tom took on other duties. Since he was mechanical and had a good knowledge of such things, he would try to repair anything that broke down in the house. He even extended his work to the hospital where he would help with anything that needed repairing or moving as well as driving the ambulance to and from the Abbey and the hospital.

As more and more patients came to the Abbey there was a need for wheelchairs. It seemed like the wheelchairs were often out of commission due to the wheels bending or breaking so Tom took it upon himself to repairing them and trying to ensure they were always working properly.

He scoured all the outbuildings and sheds around the estate looking for parts he could use especially wheels. To his surprise he found several old children's wagons and four old bicycles that he thought he could make useable.

It was a mild spring day so Tom took advantage of the weather and was working on the bicycles outside in courtyard in front of the garage when he heard approaching footsteps on the gravel.

"Bicycles!" Sybil exclaimed as she ran the last few steps towards the bicycles lying on the ground.

"Was one of them yours or was that another thing you weren't allowed to do as a child?"

Sybil looked at him, rolling her eyes as she did a perfect imitation of her granny "Why Sybil child, a Lady does not ride a bicycle."

Tom laughed. "So how did you do it?"

Sybil laughed with him. "I think you know me too well. The estate is large and there's plenty of places Granny and Papa would never wander to."

"I can still remember how much fun I had riding around. That is until the day I went a little too fast down a hill and had a horrible crash or at least it seemed horrible at the time." Sybil surprised him by rolling up her sleeve and showing him some faint scars. "I have some on my leg too."

Tom waited for her to lift her skirt and show him those scars but alas that was not to be.

"Of course when I came limping home, my dress muddied and torn, blood pouring out of my arm and leg and crying because it hurt so much my secret was out." Sybil was now holding up one of the bicycles and looking at it wistfully. "When I recovered my bicycle had mysteriously vanished. I searched and searched for it but never did find it."

"Is it fit to ride?" she asked eying the bicycle she was holding.

"I've finished working on that one" he replied pointing to a bicycle leaning against the garage wall.

"Well I think someone should test it just to be sure it's working properly." Without waiting for him to respond she sat on the bicycle and began riding, a bit wobbly at first, around the courtyard. The look of glee on her face caused Tom to chuckle.

"I think you've found a new toy."

"Well hurry and fix another one and we can ride together."

So began another pastime for the two. However this time it was Sybil teaching Tom since he had never owned a bicycle as a child. It amused Sybil seeing the usually so self-assured Tom suddenly unsure of himself.

"It's easy Tom" Sybil had said "children can do it."

"I'm not a child Sybil" he grumbled. "It's probably easier for them because they're closer to the ground."

But he found there was one benefit to his spills. Nurse Crawley was there to take care of his cuts and scrapes. In fact he so enjoyed her gentle touches tending to his cuts he considered never letting her know that he could ride a bicycle.

 **1918**

Tom spent his evenings in one of two ways either working on the motor cars or reading often with the later following the first and this evening was no exception. Tom was working on one of the motor cars. He took pride in his work and kept the cars in top working order as well as looking brand new. As he polished the Renault to a shine where one could see their face in its chrome, Tom thought that one day he'd own his own car. While it might not be as fine a motor car as this one, it would be his own and a symbol that he was no longer just a chauffeur.

At the sound of the garage door opening, Tom looked up from the car, a deep smile gradually gracing his face. It had been several days since he had seen her. Now that she often worked at the abbey instead of the hospital there would be days that their paths didn't cross. He was so used to seeing her in her nurse's uniform that it took him a minute to realize she was dressed in a simple skirt and blouse. Although to his eyes, nothing she wore was that "simple" since even her plainest blouse probably cost more than his best suit.

"It's rather late to be needing the motor car milady" Tom teased.

Lifting the small wicker basket she held in her hands as if to emphasize her need for the motor car, her eyes glowing as if she had just learned a secret, she answered "sometimes one has an important engagement at an odd hour. This is one of those times."

Intrigued as to where she would be going at this hour, it had to be ten or later he guessed, he then felt a slight twinge of panic. As he stood there staring at her, she opened the door of the motor car and sat on the front seat.

"Branson" she called in her most aristocratic voice.

"Of course milady" he uttered as he took his seat. "Just where are we going?"

"It's rather complicated so I'll just give you the directions as we drive" was her reply.

To his surprise they didn't head for the gates but rather turned behind the house on a road he rarely traveled on since it just led, as far as he knew, to the far reaches of the estate's grounds. Following her directions, they came to a small pond which Tom had never seen before and it was here that Sybil suddenly said "Stop."

Perplexed at first, then thinking she was lost, he stopped the car. To his further surprise she opened her door and stepped out of the car taking several steps towards the pond before she turned around. Seeing him still sitting in the car, she called "Aren't you coming?"

"Sybil" he responded but she had already turned around and started walking again. He had to run a few paces to catch up with her. After a few more yards, she stopped "I think this is just perfect."

"Perfect?" he asked.

Rather than answer him, she sat the wicker basket on the ground and pulled a small blanket out of it. Then sitting down, she continued pulling items out of the basket.

"All those times Tom you've greeted me after my shift with a biscuit or sandwich I …" she suddenly seemed conscious that it was just the two of them alone in a field with the sky lit by what seemed like a thousand stars.

"Well … I thought I'd just return the kindness

"Well aren't you going to join me?" she looked up at him still standing there.

"Where did you get all this?" he asked as he surveyed the cheese tart, bread, a jar of jam, slices of cake, and two bottles of cider she had laid on the blanket.

"I asked Daisy to help me select some things as a thank you for one of the nurses."

Tom chuckled. "I'm not sure if I should be amused by your ingenuity or alarmed by your ability to" he had to think of something that didn't sound as harsh as lie or deceive "bamboozle."

She laughed that throaty laugh of hers that always made him smile. "Bamboozle! I quite like that word."

"No seriously Tom, I prefer to look at it as more … well … when you grow up constantly being told you can't do this, that it isn't proper for a Lady, you learn to … shall we say … improvise."

"Okay we'll go with the word improvise" he replied lightheartedly as he took a piece of that delicious looking cheese tart.

 **1919**

It seemed she always had a knack for surprising him. Life with her would be full of wonderful surprises he thought. But he couldn't imagine why she had sent a note to him telling him to come to the servants hall at 3 pm sharp.

It was the quiet time of day in the servants hall and Tom was the only one there when he entered at 3 pm sharp as he had been ordered. He could hear clanging and muted voices coming from the kitchen. He pondered going there but remembered she had specified the hall so he took a seat and waited.

It was only two or three minutes later when Sybil and Daisy appeared at the entrance.

"Aha" Sybil exclaimed. Looking from Daisy to Tom, "There is someone here." She sounded as if she was surprised to see him.

"Branson, Daisy has been teaching me to cook a few simple dishes. I wonder if you'd like to try one of the meat pies I just took out of the oven?" she asked so innocently standing there wearing a white apron that looked as if it needed a good cleaning.

Forgetting that Daisy was standing there beside her, Tom blurted out "You made meat pies?"

She simply replied yes as if it was the most natural thing in the world for her to be in the kitchen working along side Daisy.

Placing the plate of the small meat pies on the table, she asked him to take one.

She could see the hesitation on his part as could Daisy who spoke up "She followed my directions thoroughly."

"Well only if you two join me" he replied.

"Of course" Sybil answered as she sat down, looking quite comfortable as if it was not unusual for her to be there in the servants hall dining on meat pies.

"Oh Daisy maybe we could have some lemonade?" Sybil asked.

"Yes milady" Daisy jumped up and started for the kitchen.

Sybil then turned to Tom who looked as if he was enjoying the meat pie.

"How did you manage this?" he asked wondering how she had wormed her way into the kitchens. He couldn't imagine Mr. Carson being happy about.

But as she lifted her meat pie towards her mouth Sybil just quietly uttered "I put my ability to bamboozle to use once again." Then taking his hand, looking deeply into his eyes "every wife should know how to cook."

* * *

"Are you sure?" his mother asked sincerely. He detected no malice, no judgement, in her voice.

"I am Ma. I've been sure for a very long time."

"I know you waited for her for such a long time, I just want to make sure you waited for the right reasons."

"Ma she's my best friend. We were friends for a long time before I even admitted to myself that I loved her. I'm not actually sure when that friendship turned to love. But I know that my life would not be complete without her in it."

She looked at her son. This was the son she had such high hopes for and he hadn't disappointed her. "Then love her and cherish her all your days."

* * *

"Do you have any doubts?" Mary asked as they sat in their hotel room. It was late in the evening and tomorrow her sister would become Mrs. Tom Branson giving up once and for all the lifestyle she had been raised in.

"Mary" Sybil started with annoyance in her voice. "Mary we've been through this"

Gently grabbing both of her sister's hands in hers, Mary interrupted her. "I know Sybil but I just want you to know that if you have any doubt at all"

But Sybil wouldn't let her sister finish. "I have no doubts Mary. He's been my best friend for so long. I can't imagine my life without him in it."

Mary looked at her sister who seemed so clear in her thinking, in knowing her heart's desire, and willing to act on it. With thoughts of Matthew and Richard in her head, oh how she envied Sybil for that.

Mary pulled Sybil in close for a hug. "I'll miss you you know. But I'll be happy knowing you're in good hands."


	3. Chapter 3

**One**

The staff had been busy for a week preparing for the big day for it wasn't often that a child of the house turned one and in fact it had been five years since Edith's first birthday. Breaking with the Crawley tradition of celebrating first birthdays with just a special cake at tea, Cora had decided to have a luncheon party in the gardens for little Sybil. Violet of course thought it seemed too American but Cora was adamant about how the family would celebrate.

This wouldn't be like the garden party the Crawleys hosted annually, it would be much smaller and informal with just the family attending since Sybil wasn't the heir or even the first child. Yet, in another break from tradition, Cora had decided all of the house staff could attend.

To stress the informality of the party, all the food would be finger food such as small sandwiches and an assortment of raw vegetables and cheeses. Cora asked Mrs. Patmore to make a small cake that would hold the one candle for Sybil and then two or three larger cakes that would be for everyone else to eat.

When the big day arrived it seemed everyone was in a good mood for little Lady Sybil had endeared herself to all the staff she came in contact with for she was such a happy baby. It seemed that she was nearly always smiling, a smile which now showed her six teeth, a smile which lit up her big bright blue eyes. None of the maids could envision Lady Mary, so haughty at only six, or Lady Edith with her prickly personality had ever been such a baby.

While she did view her charge in the same way as most of the staff, Mrs. Dancy, Sybil's nanny, knew that Lady Sybil was going to be a handful for she was already displaying a curiosity of the world around her. Ever since Sybil had learned to crawl, Mrs. Dancy had to watch the child carefully for it was surprising to her how fast and how far the child could go so quickly. On more than one occasion Mrs. Dancy had had to go running after Sybil who when caught would sit on her bum, turn her head towards the nanny and give such a big smile, a smile which could be interpreted as proudly saying "look what I've done", that Mrs. Dancy couldn't be angry at her.

Mrs. Dancy was now trying to prepare herself for a fully mobile Lady Sybil for the child had learned to pull herself up to a standing position and if holding on to something could take a few steps. Mrs. Dancy feared that once the little girl could walk her job of minding the child would become much more demanding.

To the delight of her mother, it was at her first birthday celebration that Sybil managed to take her first unaided steps. Whether it was the birthday cake with its brightly colored icing or the fancy colorfully wrapped presents sitting beside the cake that caught her attention, it was clear from the moment Cora sat Sybil down on the lawn that Sybil's attention was drawn to the low table that held them.

Granny and Robert may have been horrified but Cora just laughed at the pictures from that day of little Sybil who had been so carefully dressed in a pretty blue flowered dress with a matching blue ribbon holding back what little dark hair she had, her face, hair and hands smeared with icing and bits of cake. The smile on her face as she looked directly at the camera was as bright as the candle she had just blown out.

Yes it was obvious to all that little Lady Sybil was going to be a handful.

 **Six**

Finally having a few moments of rest, Elsie Hughes sat at the large table in the servants hall, her eyes closed, savoring a hot cup of tea and the peace and quiet of being the only one there. But that solitude didn't last long for suddenly she heard movement and opened her eyes to find Lady Sybil standing there looking intently at her.

Looking puzzled the child asked "Were you taking a nap?"

"Heavens no child, I was just enjoying my cup of tea."

"But you had your eyes closed" the child insisted.

"Well I was just thinking how good it tasted" Elsie countered. She had only been working at Downton as a housemaid for two months and was still trying to adjust to how much busier Downton was that her last employment.

Elsie smiled at the inquisitive little girl. Little Lady Sybil was quite well known for her friendliness to the staff. She often came down to the kitchens looking for biscuits or other treats from the cook and would happily sit at the servants table eating her snacks and talking to whoever was nearby.

Sometimes her forays into the servants hall was just a means to evading her nanny and she would be seen running past on her way outdoors. Just as often the child would be seen sneaking back into the house, usually with her clothes messed up and her unruly hair no longer brushed back into a neat ponytail but rather flying every which way, using the servants stairway as a way back to her room.

"My birthday is Friday. I'll be six." Sybil blurted out as she stood hopping from one foot to the other.

Elsie was amused by the excitement of the child. She couldn't help but think how nice it was to be excited by a birthday but she guessed birthdays for the children of the house were much different from those of Elsie's and her siblings.

"And do you have big plans for your birthday?"

"Oh this is a very big birthday for me." Sybil stopped her hopping and looked seriously at the young house maid. "I get to start learning from Mrs. Holton." Elsie knew Mrs. Holton was the governess for Lady Mary and Lady Edith although as the governess she had a much loftier position in the household and didn't mingle with the downstairs staff.

"I'm going to learn to read and write" Sybil proudly exclaimed. "I already know how to write my name and I can read a little bit but Mary says I'll soon be able to read her books. Won't that be wonderful?"

Before Elsie could comment, Sybil continued on. "Do you like to read?"

"I do but I don't have much time to do so."

"Mary sometimes reads to me at night and Papa reads to me in the library. I can't wait till I can read by myself. Then I won't have to wait for someone to have the time to read to me I can do it when I want to."

Elsie envied the little girl who could spend her days reading rather than working around the house. Elsie knew she was luckier than many because her parents had insisted she and her brother and sisters attend the local school and she had happily done so until she was twelve when she had to start working. Looking at the child standing before her, Elsie knew this child would never have to work, she would never have to know what it was like to scrub floors or make a bed or even make her own cup of tea. No this child would only have to ring a bell and whatever she wanted would be brought to her.

Lost in her own thoughts, Elsie wasn't even aware that Lady Sybil was still chattering away until the child tugged on her arm. "Would you like that?" the child said.

"I'm sorry Lady Sybil but my thoughts were wandering again."

Sybil knitted her eyebrows as if in deep thought. "Were you thinking about your favorite book?"

Elsie chuckled. "I can't say I have a favorite book for there are so many to choose from."

"Oh" Lady Sybil sounded a bit disappointed. "I guess you're right there are just so many books and I guess I can't have a favorite until I've read them all."

Just then they could hear a faint voice calling "Lady Sybil."

"It's been so nice chatting with you but I've got to run now." With that the whirlwind that was Lady Sybil turned and darted out the servants entrance going in the opposite direction of the voice that was calling her.

Elsie chuckled at the little girl's actions for evading her nanny, as well as sneaking in and out of the house, was a skill that six year old Lady Sybil was quite good at.

 **Twelve**

"I don't think you've thought about this" Violet said sternly to her daughter-in-law. The two were in Cora's upstairs sitting room having tea.

"That's just it. I have thought about it." Cora replied. "It's lonely for Sybil being the only one in the nursery. She shouldn't have to eat every meal alone."

Cora had had to make many adjustments when she married into the Crawleys not the least of which was how to raise children. The children of English aristocrats were watched over by nannies from the time they were born. Girls didn't attend the local schools but were taught by governesses. Parents took very little interest or had little interaction with their children seeming to be content with their children being presented after afternoon tea. It wasn't until the child was fourteen or fifteen that they could partake of meals with the rest of the family.

There had been no nursery or nannies in Cora's childhood. Before she was old enough to go to school, there was a housekeeper who kept watch over Cora. Once she started school, she would spend her time after school in her parent's store sitting behind the counter doing her homework or reading or drawing if she wasn't helping out by sweeping or stocking some of the bins.

Cora knew the moment she first held her daughter Mary that she wouldn't comply with the English formal ways of childrearing. She had endured many sharp comments from her mother-in-law but Cora didn't care for it was the one area she wouldn't be intimated by Violet.

But Violet wouldn't be dissuaded. "Sybil is just too young."

"She'll be twelve tomorrow. That's hardly too young to sit at the dining table with the rest of her family" Cora countered.

"She can hold her knife and fork and drink from a glass." Cora continued sounding quite insolent to Violet.

"Well my dear with Sybil one can never be too sure." Violet was never one to concede a point especially to her daughter in law.

For once it was Cora who glared at Violet. Unperturbed, Violet continued on. "You must admit Sybil doesn't have Mary's grace and poise or even Edith's for that matter."

"If you're implying that Sybil is a bit more rambunctious I'll concede that. But she is polite and mannerly. Anyway it is not your decision."

To Sybil's utter delight she celebrated her twelfth birthday in the company of her family in Downton's great dining room for her first dinner with the family. Cora had bought her daughter a new dress for the occasion which wasn't quite like the formal gowns that Mary and Edith wore but certainly much fancier than anything Sybil had ever worn.

While she tried her very best to be the graceful young lady everyone expected at the table, there were of course moments when everyone was reminded she was still a child. Her high spirits and infectious laugh brought a much needed levity to the table.

She didn't partake of the after dinner ritual of drinks in the parlor for it was way past her bedtime. Yet as she practically waltzed to her room, Sybil thought she'd never tire of such dinners.

 **Eighteen**

Turning eighteen had much significance for girls such as Sybil. The most immediate change was that she could no longer wear her hair down or pulled back into a simple ponytail or braid; now she must always wear it in some sort of upsweep. Her husband would be the only man that would see her with her hair down.

She was now a woman; at least society considered her so for with her 18th birthday she was now eligible to be courted. Of course that couldn't formally happen until after she was presented to the king during her season. The balls and garden parties she would attend during that month were intended for young men, well really any unmarried men, to meet her and consider her as a prospect for marriage.

"Doesn't that sound like a cattle auction?" Branson had commented when she tried explaining "the season." "You're put out there on display for them to … well … I'm sorry my lady but it just sounds so demeaning to the women."

"Well what happens in Ireland?" she asked earnestly.

"If you fancy a girl you walk her home from school or church or you ask her to a dance. You talk to her and get to know her."

"And have you courted a girl?"

Tom looked deeply into her beautiful blue eyes, eyes that he thought he'd never tire of looking at. Looking at the earnest expression on her face he realized this was just another symbol of how different their worlds were.

He couldn't lie to her. "I have yes."

"But you didn't marry." Realizing what she had said, Sybil blushed a bit.

"I realized I didn't want to marry so young. So many in my neighborhood end up eighteen and married with a baby on the way working in a dead end job. I didn't want that. I wanted to make something of my life."

Now as she sat at her vanity at Grantham House brushing out her hair his words came back to her. How right he was it was demeaning. The men she had been dancing with for the past three nights weren't really interested in her as a person at least not as much as they were interested in her looks, her wealth, her pedigree. Some had looked downright annoyed when she had talked about women's rights or the vote, one or two had even told her she was foolish.

Conversations with her girl friends weren't any better for all they wanted to talk about was what balls they were going to, who seemed interested in who, and what clothes they would wear.

Even her parents seemed to want to talk only about the parties and balls she had received invitations to and the men she was meeting. Yet as the days went by Sybil realized she wasn't really interested in the season anymore, she was ready to go home. To her surprise, Sybil found that she was missing a certain chauffeur.

How she longed to be back at Downton talking to him. With him she could talk about anything and everything. They had serious conversations about politics. They had lighthearted conversations about favorite foods. They talked about their childhoods, their favorite books, their hopes for the future. In that moment Sybil realized Tom had become her best friend.

 **22**

Since she had been about fifteen every birthday had been the same even during the war years. Mrs. Patmore would fix her favorite foods for dinner. Her favorite pudding would be served after dinner in the drawing room where she'd blow out the candles as everyone sang and clapped. Then she'd open her presents, a beautiful necklace from her parents with Granny giving her a matching bracelet or earrings, the only surprise being which one. Even the presents from her sisters would be the same every year, a book from Edith and a hat pin and hair ornament from Mary.

As she sat in the drawing room, holding her plate of pudding, she looked around at her family, all smiles and happiness. A happiness that she knew she would soon shatter for this would be her last birthday celebrated with them.

The war had changed many lives including Sybil's. She found she loved working as a nurse. It was the first time in her life that she felt useful. She loved being tired at the end of the day because it meant she had been busy.

But the biggest change was that the war gave Sybil the courage to follow her heart and her heart belonged to Tom. She had kept him waiting for years while she dithered as to whether she was willing to lose her family, her friends, her lifestyle but she hadn't faltered as to whether or not she loved him. That she had known for quite some time even if she wasn't willing to admit it to herself or to him.

So she savored every minute of this evening, of the good wishes and love of her family. It was the memories of times like this that she was taking with her regardless of what happened when she told them her plans. Next year she would be in Ireland and she would be Mrs. Tom Branson.

 **23**

This birthday was different from any other birthday in her life for it was the first she was away from her family, it was the first she'd celebrate in Ireland, and most importantly it was the first she'd celebrate as Mrs. Tom Branson.

She had told Tom they didn't need to do anything special that she'd be happiest just having the evening alone with him.

It had been a long tiring shift at the hospital and Sybil just wanted to get home and put her feet up and rest. Maybe she could talk Tom into going for take away fish and chips which had become one of her favorite meals. Hopefully he would be home early enough to do so before she ended up cooking something just to alleviate her hunger.

To her surprise Tom was already home when she arrived there. A vase of fresh cut flowers graced the end table in the living room filling the room with their sweet scent. These were flowers Sybil knew Tom had cut from a friend's garden and not the kind one bought.

"Home on time I see" Tom smiled at her as he came out of their bedroom.

As he took her in his arms he kissed her forehead before dropping his lips to hers. While it was a lingering kiss, Tom didn't want it to lead to anything more just yet for he had a surprise for her. He could see from her eyes that her shift had been another grinding one although the smile she put on tried to hide that fact.

"I'm surprised you're home before me" Sybil managed to say as Tom ran his hands up and down in back.

"Well I had some things to do" he sounded quite serious although the gleam in his eyes betrayed that seriousness.

"And you're home just in time to see what I've been doing love." Releasing her from his arms he took her hand and led her to the bathroom. There to Sybil's utter delight he had drawn her a bath. The warm water from the bath had steamed up the mirror while the bubbles from her favorite bath salts, a gift from Mary, had soaked the room in the scent of roses.

"I thought after a long day on your feet you deserved a good soak."

"Oh Tom" Sybil pulled him close and kissed his face.

"We can't start that just yet love. You take a good soak and I'll have dinner on the table when you're ready."

Twenty minutes later Sybil appeared in the living room wearing her short silk robe, refreshed and ready for dinner. "Do I smell fish and chips?"

"From your favorite place."

They spent the next hour sitting on the living room sofa, eating their take away fish and chips, drinking bottled cider, and chatting.

"It's funny that when I was walking home tonight all I thought about was a warm bath and fish and chips. I can't believe you did it."

"Well I know my wife." Tom had been worried about Sybil's birthday for weeks. This was the first one for her away from her family. He knew he couldn't buy her anything as expensive as what they could give her.

He handed her a small package wrapped in bright blue paper tied with a multi-colored bow that was almost the size as the package. "It's not much but it comes from my heart love."

Sybil snuggled up to Tom and opened her gift. To her delight it was a book of love poems.

Tears welled up in Sybil's eyes causing a moment of panic to race through Tom. Although he didn't doubt her love for him, he still had moments when he was afraid that love wouldn't be enough, that she'd realize all that she had given up to be with him.

"Love" Tom quietly murmured. "Love I …"

Sybil cut him off as she raised her fingers to touch his lips and silence him.

"Tom just being here with you is present enough. You've given me the best presents I could ever … you gave me your love and you gave me my freedom."

She continued speaking as she stroked his face. "Really could you imagine Granny or Papa or even Mary sitting in their bath robes eating take away fish and chips wrapped in newspaper in the drawing room?"

That image caused Tom to laugh out loud.

Sybil laughed out loud with him. "But it's these things that I love."

She suddenly stood and grabbed both of his hands to raise him off the sofa. "And you know what would make this night perfect" she said coyly.

He looked at her and grinned. "Aye love I think I do." Lifting her off her feet and into his arms he carried her to their bedroom.


	4. The Servants Ball

_**This chapter is my contribution to Lady Sybil Lives Week. The prompt for today was Couples Fluff, Servants Ball.**_

 **January 1914**

Sybil looked forward to the annual servants ball. Since she wasn't out yet, her season wouldn't be till later this year, her attendance at the family's parties was very limited. She was allowed to attend the dinner and could briefly attend the after dinner dancing but was only allowed to dance with her father.

The one exception was the servants ball. Since there would be no males outside of the family attending which for tonight meant Papa and Matthew, hence no suitable males who might be interested in courting her, she was allowed to stay until she decided to retire for the evening.

For the first time since she had been attending the servants ball, Sybil was the last of her family to arrive. She hadn't been able to make up her mind what to wear, a most unusual occurrence for her. When Sybil arrived in the grand hall most of the servants were already there but as she looked around the room she saw that one was noticeably absent.

Although she tried to dance and chat with almost everyone there, she found her eyes kept wandering around the room looking for him thinking he would come eventually. She was the last of the family to leave and she left disappointed that he hadn't come.

Tom found the whole idea of a servants ball somewhat patronizing. He had sat in the servants hall and listened to some of them go on and on about the ball and he couldn't believe how excited they were. He couldn't join in because he didn't think the highlight of his year would be the Crawleys deigning to chatter with him while nibbling on small bites of bread filled with salmon mousse.

The night of the ball, Tom spent the evening as he did so often, alone in his cottage reading.

 **January 1915**

"I am just so surprised Mama and Papa decided to have the servant's ball this year. I mean with the war …" Sybil hesitated as she looked at Branson. "But Papa says it's important to keep up everyone's spirits."

"And that's the purpose of the servant's ball is it? To keep up the servant's spirits?" Branson looked so earnest Sybil honestly couldn't tell if he was serious or just trying to get a rise out of her.

"Well … well I …" Sybil seemed rather tongue-tied, she didn't want to sound condescending. "Well it's a nice evening for everyone to mingle …"

"So I can talk openly to Lady Mary or to old Lady Grantham or to …" she felt his eyes bore into her "you."

"You can do more than talk" she responded mischievously with a twinkle in her eye. "You can ask them to dance."

Now that made Tom burst out laughing. "My dreams come true … I can twirl old lady Grantham around the great hall."

Now Sybil was laughing. The image of her grandmother doing an Irish jig floated in her mind.

Trying to sound serious she said "You'll have to ask Granny very early in the evening since usually after a dance with Carson and then a quick dance with Papa she spends the rest of the evening sitting on the sidelines watching everyone else dance feigning that she's too old and tired to dance more."

"Maybe she's just horrified by the terrible dancing she's witnessing" Tom replied.

Sybil rolled her eyes "I suppose you're an excellent dancer?"

Tom seemed to puff out his broad chest, resting his right arm across his chest, a wide grin lighting up his handsome face. "Not to sound like I'm bragging but I was always in great demand back home. I rarely sat out a dance."

One of the things that Sybil had come to like about Branson was his self-assurance. It never came across to her as cockiness like so many of the men she had talked and danced with during her season and which she had had her fill of then. No, with Branson it was something different, he wasn't trying to impress her. After all if he hadn't been self-assured he'd have never talked to her in the first place, he'd have remained that silent creature driving her around speaking only in reply to her inquiries or the required "Good Morning My Lady" or "Good Evening My Lady."

"Well I don't think we'll be doing any Irish jigs Branson so does your dancing repertoire include waltzing and other ballroom dances?"

Now it was Branson's turn to roll his eyes before turning his gaze directly on her. "I am a man of many talents my lady. I think you'll find my … _dancing repertoire …"_ oh how he accented those words "quite suitable for your party."

Sybil, feeling his gaze on her, felt her pulse suddenly racing and her face blushing. To break the electricity she felt dancing around her, she tried her best to look and sound like her sister Mary. "Well then Branson I look forward to you seeing you waltzing with Granny."

Branson's gaze on her softened once again into a broad smile breaking out on his face. "I hope I don't disappoint you my lady."

Both of them suddenly burst out laughing breaking that electric air that had surrounded them and engulfed the garage.

"Right then" Sybil nodded as she turned to leave the garage.

"So my lady will I have the pleasure of a waltz with you?" Tom called out to her before she reached the garage doors.

She stopped walking but didn't turn her body around. Just turning her head she glanced back at him. "Of course. I look forward to dancing with a man of your dancing ability."

Although they saw each other several times in the week before the servants ball they were never alone and Sybil hadn't returned to the garage for conversation.

In the year since the last servants ball, Tom had become quite smitten with Lady Sybil. While her sisters were what he envisioned the daughters of an English Earl would be like, Sybil (and in his mind he usually thought of her as just Sybil not Lady Sybil) was so different. Of course he had been attracted to her beauty from the moment he saw her but it wasn't just that. She was kind and caring with a ready smile for all she met. She was interested in so much of the things he was interested in such as politics, the working poor, women's rights. Like him she had a thirst for knowledge and they had had many lively conversations and even a few arguments over politics or books they read. He couldn't imagine any woman being more perfect than Lady Sybil.

He knew as the lowly chauffeur he was not expected to befriend one of the ladies of the house but that is what had happened. Whenever he drove just her they would converse as if they were sitting in a pub sharing a pint. He knew his feelings weren't just one-sided because she would often seek out his company in the garage. He told himself it wasn't just because she was lonely and wanted to converse with someone who shared her interests and beliefs.

As he put on his best suit he couldn't help but wonder what she would think when she felt the course material so unlike the finest silks and soft wools of the men she was used to dancing with. He was sure his entire wardrobe probably cost less than one of her fancy ball gowns, heck probably even less than one of her day outfits. But he was sure Sybil would see beyond the poor quality suit to the man himself.

He wondered how it would be to hold her in his arms and feel the softness of her skin while looking into those lovely blue eyes. The vision of when he briefly held her hand at the garden party danced in his mind. Only now it would be acceptable for him to touch her, that is it would be acceptable only while they danced. But still he imagined he could stand next to her chatting while they nibbled on whatever delectables Mrs. Patmore and her staff had made.

He had never looked forward to an evening in his life as much as he did this evening.

In her room Sybil sat at her vanity but she wasn't really seeing the face reflected in the mirror for her mind was elsewhere. Since he had taken the job at Downton, Sybil had found herself drawn to the Downton chauffeur. She had been startled when he began talking to her and handed her those pamphlets for no servant had ever been so bold with her before. But now … now she had to admit she sought him out for conversation. Sometimes she made up excuses for him to drive her somewhere just to be alone with him and then there were those times she'd go to the garage with the flimsy excuse of ordering the car which in the past she'd just tell Carson who would see to it that the car was waiting for her when she wanted it.

She knew that sometimes when she was in the car she didn't pay attention to her mother or her sisters but rather she was looking intently at him through the rear view mirror and he had caught her doing so on more than one occasion causing a sly smile on his lips or a quick raise of his eyebrows as he looked back at her in the mirror.

The routine of getting ready usually meant the sisters would congregate in Mary's bedroom and then go downstairs together but tonight Sybil was afraid she would betray her emotions under the glaring eyes of Mary so she opted to forgo the sisterly gathering. Of the family only Papa and granny were in the hall when Sybil arrived surprising them both with her early, and solitary, arrival.

The hall was already filled with most of the staff who were drinking and enjoying the food that filled several long tables that had been set up around the room. Although the small band from the village was playing no one was dancing yet for that would not begin until all of the family was in attendance, then Mama and Carson would do a very short waltz before Papa with Mrs. Hughes would join them. After that, any one could dance although there was a customary order of dance partners for the family.

Sybil wasn't interested in dancing with anyone other than Branson but she knew she'd have to dance with Papa, Carson and Barrow before she could dance with him although she wasn't sure if Branson knew there was such etiquette to follow. As she scanned those in attendance Sybil didn't see him and a moment of panic engulfed her that despite their conversation he wouldn't attend.

She had danced with Papa and Carson when she finally spied him. He was holding a glass of punch and talking with a couple of the housemaids. As she watched the girls laugh at whatever he had said, Sybil could feel her chest tighten. Her first thought was how handsome he looked in his suit for she realized that she had never seen him in anything other than his green uniform or the coveralls he sometimes wore when working on one of the motor cars.

It wasn't until much later, after he had danced with Granny, Cora and Mrs. Patmore and some of the staff that Branson finally approached her while she was chatting with Anna and Bates.

"May I have the pleasure of this dance my lady?" Branson asked her merrily. "That is if you think my dancing appears to be up to your standards."

Both Anna and Bates were surprised at Branson's cheekiness but noted that Lady Sybil seemed to take it in stride and in fact returned such cheekiness.

"Well" she began "I didn't watch you closely but I do note that none of the women seemed to have suffered any injury."

Anna and Bates watched as Branson escorted Lady Sybil to the dance floor with his hand gently touching her back. "Maybe you should have a quiet talk with him" Anna said.

Bates, turning his gaze from Branson and Lady Sybil to Anna and then back to the couple, replied "I think both Mr. Branson and Lady Sybil know what they are doing."

"But I'd hate to see him get in any trouble or worse lose his job" Anna stated.

On the dance floor, Branson had one arm firmly in place on Sybil's waist and the other on her shoulder as they moved in step. He had deliberately chosen a slower number so he could hold her and gaze into those beautiful blue eyes. For her part, Sybil returned his gaze with neither taking their eyes off the other. For both the dance ended far too soon.

Although protocol called for them to move on to other partners, they ignored that and danced the next number which was a much livelier one. Aware that they couldn't dance a third song in a row but not wanting to see him off, Sybil asked "Why don't we have a glass of punch?"

The cheekiness returned as Branson countered "Have I worn you out my lady that you need to rest?"

Sybil laughed before looking around the room to see if anyone was watching them. "No … it's just that … we can't … we can't …"

"Don't tell me you're in such shock of my dancing ability that you can't talk" Tom chuckled causing Sybil to roll her eyes in that way he had seen so many times.

"Branson you know that we can't spend the rest of the evening dancing together" and with those words Tom felt as if someone had punched him in the stomach. For just a few minutes he had lost himself in the thought of just him and her. If they had been in Ireland no one would have cared if they danced every dance together and then left the hall together arm in arm. But here in Downton … they weren't Sybil and Tom they were the Lady and the chauffeur.

 **January 1919**

The war had encroached on Downton and there had been no servants ball since 1915 but now the war was over and Lord Grantham wanted to get back to how life had been before the war as if it had had no effect on Downton or the Crawleys. He certainly had no reason to suspect the changes that had taken place under his roof concerning his youngest daughter and the chauffeur.

Unlike the servants ball in 1915 when Sybil and Branson were just beginning to acknowledge that maybe there was something more than friendship between them, by 1919 they were secretly engaged.

Unlike the last servants ball, neither Tom nor Sybil fretted over what they would wear for now they no longer needed to impress the other. The hard part of this ball would be trying to keep their love secret from all those around them.

Tom watched as Sybil danced with her father and Carson and then Barrow. It gave him time to just admire the beauty who would soon become his wife. When she asked one of the young hall boys to dance, Tom noticed how the lad's eyes lit up and he seemed in awe until Sybil's warm smile and words seem to relax him. That was one of the things he admired about her, that she could talk to anyone and make them feel comfortable. He had witnessed that so much with her patients. They could tell that her warmth and kindness were sincere.

Tom was so lost in his thoughts that he didn't realize someone was talking to him until they touched his arm. "I'm sorry" he began before turning and seeing that it was Sybil who was standing beside him.

"Daydreaming about the new housemaid?" she laughed.

"Daydreaming about the most beautiful woman here" he replied.

"Oh and who would that be?"

"Well" Tom began looking not at Sybil but at a group standing across the room "see the girl in that black and silver dress."

Sybil knitted her brows in a frown as she looked at the group he had pointed to but she didn't see anyone in such a dress.

Tom, still looking straight ahead at that group, continued "the one with the black skirt and the silver bodice and black straps with a beaded leaf holding up the sheer sleeves."

Sybil nudged him with her elbow and laughed as she realized Tom was describing her dress. "Tom"

But he continued talking "she looks so beautiful even if the dress is from her season before the war and she's trying to wear them out."

Sybil laugh was hardier now and Tom turned to look at her. "I can't believe you remembered that" she finally murmured.

"What you think I wouldn't remember that evening when you came to garage and told me you were close to making your decision as you ran your gloved hand over the side of my face?"

Sybil wanted so badly to reach out and touch him now, to not only run her hand along his face but to hug him tightly and to kiss his lips.

"So how about a dance?"

"I thought you'd never ask me my lady."

 **Jan 1920**

Tom picked up the mail as he reached the front door of their Dublin flat. Inside the flat he put his brief case on the floor beside the hall table and sorted through the mail which consisted of a letter from his cousin in Galway, a notice from the landlord, a notice from the milk delivery company, and a letter for Sybil from Mary.

Later as they ate their dinner Tom asked Sybil if Mary had written any news.

"Not really" Sybil replied. "She just seems to go on about things at Downton as if I really care."

"Like what?" he asked.

"Like this." She picked up the letter and began reading "Next Saturday night is the annual servants ball. Papa considered cancelling it this year since Bates is still in prison but we convinced him the servants need something to look forward to."

"That's our Mary always trying to lift the spirits of the servants" Tom mocked.

"Tom!"

"I'm sorry love but Mary just doesn't understand."

"Well I seem to recall you enjoying the two servants balls you attended."

"That's because they were my only opportunities to hold you in my arms."

"So didn't that lift your spirits" Sybil teased.

When Saturday rolled around Tom had to work and he asked Sybil to meet him at his office at six. "I thought we could go out for fish and chips at that place you like close to my office."

After their meal Tom surprised Sybil by walking in the direction opposite of the way home. "It's a little chilly Tom for a walk" Sybil said as she pulled her woolen scarf a little tighter.

"Don't worry we're almost there love."

Sybil wasn't sure what "there" was when Tom stopped in front of a building with a sign reading "James Society Social Hall."

She could hear the music as Tom opened the door and they walked into a large room with tables scattered around the perimeter leaving a large dance floor in the middle of the room. There were numerous couples dancing to the music coming from the band sitting at the back of the room.

Tom looked around the room trying to spot his brother and cousins and their wives or girlfriends.

"Ah" he said finally spying them. "Over here Sybil." He led her to a large round table where she recognized Daniel, Liz, and Connor.

Before reaching the table he stopped and turned to face Sybil. "It's not quite like the Downton servants ball my lady but I think you'll like it although I'll admit the food isn't as good but the music and dancing will be much better."

Sybil reached up with her gloved hand and stroke Tom's face. "I think it will be better than any servants ball if for no reason other than I can do this." She surprised him by leaning forward and kissing him.

 **Jan 1928**

Tom couldn't believe it … here they were at Downton for the servants ball. Not that they had come to Downton for that reason; no they usually came for a few days during the Christmas holidays but this year his mother had been quite ill and Tom and Sybil hadn't wanted to leave her. Tom was rather relieved for his idea of a holiday wasn't spending time at Downton but Cora had implored Sybil to come for a visit as soon as they could.

"It will be fun Tom" Sybil had declared when Cora told them the servants ball would be the following night. "We haven't been out dancing for ages."

"Well at least this time I can dance with you without worrying what others will think" Tom responded.

"But you can't dance every dance with me, we'll have to dance with the servants." Tom winced at Sybil's words. He knew she didn't mean it unkindly but he couldn't help but think back to when he had been a servant.

"I think there was a time when you looked forward to dancing with a servant."

"Well maybe a certain servant but I think he's no longer employed here" Sybil responded lightheartedly.

Tom, his eyes twinkling and that cheeky grin on his face that Sybil loved, "What a pity. But there's still Carson and Thomas."

"I'll have you know there was actually a time when I looked forward to dancing with those two."

"Really?" Tom was rather amazed.

"Of course I was only ten the first time I danced with them but I thought it was so much fun. I thought Thomas was so dashing and he twirled me around. I thought I was so grown up. I couldn't wait until the next servants ball."

"Was that the highlight of your dancing career or have you found anyone else since then that was just as exciting to dance with?" Tom teased.

"Well …" Sybil looked at her husband with a rather dreamy expression on her face. "Well … there was that servant … he was the chauffeur … I seem to recall he was Irish and that he rather bragged about his dancing talent."

"Oh … and did he live up to his bragging?"

"If I recall correctly very much so. What I really remember is I felt like a bolt of electricity went through me that first time when his arm went around my waist. I could hardly concentrate on our dancing."

"A bolt of electricity! He must have been quite something."

"It's something I've always remembered."

"And did you ever feel like that again?"

Sybil reached for her husband. "Every time you touch me."


	5. Christmas

**1896**

To no avail, five year old Tom begged his mother to let him stay up for just a few more minutes but she was adamant that it was time for him and his younger brother to go to bed. It seemed so unfair to him that his other brothers and sister would get to stay up and enjoy the festivities that were still playing out in the Branson house. Although he protested all the way up the stairs about how unfair it was and that Christmas only came once a year, his head had barely hit the pillow when he fell asleep.

It was no wonder that the little fellow had fallen asleep so fast since the past few days had been busy ones. Sweeping the front stoop and sidewalk, moving chairs, drying dishes, running last minute errands, Tom had done whatever task his mother assigned him in helping prepare the house for Christmas.

Tom couldn't decide what he liked best about Christmas. He loved the way the sitting room and dining room had been decorated with holly and ivy on the fireplace mantels and of course there was the Christmas tree. While some might look at the small tree, with a few missing branches, standing on top of a wooden crate to give it more height and proclaim it lacking, Tom thought it looked beautiful. He thought the gaps between the branches allowed one to see better the few precious hand painted glass ornaments that his mother had collected over the years. Together with the colored bits of paper that had been collected during the year and folded into triangles or balls, the ten or so glass ornaments filled out the tree quite nicely.

Then there was the food. He couldn't decide which he liked better, the spiced beef or roast goose although he was leaning to the spiced beef because it was only served at Christmas whereas they did have roast goose occasionally well maybe two or three times in a year. While the vegetables weren't really anything special, except for the potatoes which were roasted in the goose fat, it was the only time of the year when they had so many at once.

But the eating didn't stop after dinner for the table was set with the meat that hadn't been eaten at dinner, freshly baked breads, two or three types of cheeses that his Aunt Brianna always brought, and a variety of sweets baked not only his ma but also by the various aunts that visited during the day. This second feast, as Tom called it, was for the many visitors that would drop by the Branson house that day, neighbors usually came in for just a quick chat while aunts and uncles and his cousins would come for most of the afternoon with many staying well into the evening. The house would be filled with people and the sounds of laughter as well as fiddle playing, dancing and singing making Christmas Day the most festive day of the year.

And of course there were the gifts. He thought his hand-knitted socks and jumper looked suspiciously like something he had seen his ma knitting and the wooden puzzle looked like something his pa would make in his workshop in the back yard as did the little wooden box but his parents swore they were from Father Christmas. He had no doubt that the pencils that came in the wooden box had to be from Father Christmas. Those gifts together with the five coins his Uncle Fergus gave him, one pence for each year, Tom thought this had been his best Christmas yet.

Downton was an orderly place, there was a procedure for every occasion that was strictly followed, and Christmas was no exception. The trimming of the giant tree in the great hall, so tall it reached beyond the second floor, heralded the start of the Christmas season although the cook and her staff had begun preparations weeks earlier with the planning of the meals and even some of the baking of cakes and puddings that were now aging nicely in whiskey or other spirits.

The littlest Crawley, nine month old Sybil, was far too young to realize it was Christmas. She did show an interest in the tree, or rather the brightly colored ornaments, and the nanny had found that she could not let young Sybil crawl about the great hall for not only were the ornaments at peril but so was the tree which Sybil had tried to crawl under and disaster was narrowly averted when one of the footman was able to grab the child.

Sybil did not partake in any of the festivities not even the party for the tenants that her sisters Mary and Edith attended. While the rest of her family enjoyed their sumptuous Christmas dinner, Sybil ate her meal alone with the nanny in the nursery. The only activity that Sybil joined in was the opening of presents and even in that she proved that she had no use for protocol.

It was customary for only one person at a time to open a gift and that all gifts from family members would be opened before those from Father Christmas. Yet Sybil was so fascinated with the ribbons and brightly colored wrapping papers that she tore into every gift within her reach including a couple for Mary and Edith which caused tears and wails from the two older sisters. Finally, Cora had to hold Sybil tightly on her lap to prevent her from causing any more turmoil.

It was the tearing of the paper that seemed to appeal to Sybil and not the item the paper concealed. The porcelain doll that was taller than Sybil held no interest all, nor did the china tea set and certainly not the silver bracelet with three small rubies.

It seemed that none of her gifts held Sybil's interest as well as some of the ribbons that had been so carefully applied to some of the wrapped boxes. She seemed delighted to hold several ribbons at once and shake them as hard as she could causing Cora to utter that she should have bought Sybil a rattle. Of course Sybil already had a rattle, an ornate silver one that had been given to her at her birth, but it was never taken out of the nursery.

 **1901**

As Christmas neared, Tom usually avoided this street of shops for he found the display windows full of things his family could never afford. Yet the street was decorated with lights strung across many of the shop windows and garlands and wreaths decorated the doorways making it look so festive and inviting that he wandered down it anyway. Not that he really wanted many of the displayed items although he wished his father could have one of those top coats so warm that he wouldn't have to wear two jumpers underneath it and how much he would love to give his mother one of those beautiful colored glass ornaments. Even the housewares store displayed lovely china platters and dishes that he thought would show the delicious cakes and pies his mother baked for the holidays much better than the chipped ones they had.

But it was the toy store that of course most interested ten year old Tom. Among the toys displayed in the shop's large front windows were several tinplated toy motor cars. Tom was fascinated with motor cars, the real ones, but these toy models seemed almost as interesting to him. He found the detailing on the toys quite accurate. Even though he had saved all the coins Uncle Fergus gave him every year for Christmas and his birthday and adding the coins he got each week from Mr. Loch for sweeping his corner grocery and stacking the empty crates he still wouldn't have enough to buy one of these motor cars. He looked so wistfully at the toy cars and thought that one day he'd own a real car and that would be better than any toy.

As Christmas drew closer, five year old Sybil could hardly contain her excitement which had begun with decorating the tree in the great hall where she was the most enthusiastic decorator. With the child's exuberance becoming contagious, the event had a party-like atmosphere for the servants as well as the other family members present. Every evening she insisted on being present when the lights were turned on and each time never failing to oh and ah as if it was the first time she had seen the tree lit up.

She had pouted a bit when her papa denied her request for a tree in the nursery but then to appease her Cora let her pick out several ornaments to place among the garland on the fireplace mantel in the nursery. If someone had been a more careful observer they would have noticed that each day there were less ornaments on the lower branches of the huge tree in the great hall while the nursery took on more and more of a festive look with ornaments not only mixed among the garland on the large fireplace mantel but also dangling from the drape ties at each of the nursery's three windows as well as mixed in the sprays of holly that graced the bedside nightstand.

For Sybil, her best Christmas adventure was the day she and her mother spent in Ripon. It was a rare treat for Sybil to visit the town and even rarer that it was just her and her mother. Mother and daughter spent two hours walking up and down the high street admiring the decorated shop windows although it was the window display with a five car train that moved through a village looking much like Downton that most captivated the five year old. Sybil insisted they walk around the huge Christmas tree in the town square so they could see it from every angle but she proudly told her mother that while this tree was lovely it wasn't quite as beautiful as the one at Downton.

The purpose of the trip was for Sybil to buy, or rather pick out, presents for her family and Cora was amused at how seriously Sybil took this task. She was also amazed at how thoughtful Sybil was in her choices for she showed insight into the various personalities that Cora had thought was beyond the five year's old grasp.

For Sybil the highlight of the trip was having tea in one of Ripon's tea shops though it wasn't the poshest in town for Cora thought that was too stiff and formal for her exuberant daughter. As Cora looked at her daughter, so lovely in her blue flowered dress with the matching hair ribbons, trying so hard not to spill any of her hot chocolate, delicately wiping her mouth in a perfect imitation of her sister Mary, she thought how blessed she was to have this delightful child.

 **1906**

For the first time in his life Tom wasn't looking forward to Christmas. He felt no joy as he walked down the city streets decorated in bright lights and greenery, the festive air of the other pedestrians many laden with brightly wrapped packages contrasted with the sadness he felt. Although it had been seven months since his father died when the tram car he was working on suddenly lurched forward pinning him underneath, Tom still felt like it was only yesterday.

With his father's sudden death, the family's finances had become precarious. They received a small death benefit from the city but it was barely enough to feed the family causing his mother to go to work cleaning offices. Tom's dreams of finishing school and maybe even attending university also ended with that tram accident. He was able to finish the school spring term but then he went to work full time at the motor car garage where he had worked on weekends putting aside all dreams of furthering his education.

His mother wanted to keep up the spirits of her family and she had insisted on putting up a Christmas tree although this year there would only be presents for the two youngest Bransons who still believed in Father Christmas. What extra money she had she spent on food ensuring the family would have a festive dinner much like they always had although on a much smaller scale with just a goose and potatoes roasted in its fat and a casserole with carrots and parsnips.

The family had just finished eating when there was a knock on the front door. To their surprise, the room was suddenly filled with many of the relatives who came every year. The dining room table was soon filled with spiced beef, breads, cheeses, cakes and puddings. The living room came alive with music and dancing and for the first time in so long laughter.

It was only when everyone had left that little Moira, the next to youngest Branson, noticed some brightly colored paper under the Christmas tree. Upon closer inspection she found packages for each member of her family. Excitedly calling for her ma and her siblings, the Bransons converged in the room wondering what had made the child clamor for them.

They never knew who had left the presents. For Tom it was a reminder of the spirit of Christmas, not just the anonymous gifts, but the joy of family.

For ten year old Sybil, this Christmas was extra special because she was finally deemed old enough to participate in all the family's Christmas activities. She danced and sang with the few children who attended the annual tenant party. She stood in line with the rest of her family, her face lit up with the brightest smile, handing out gifts to the servants.

For the first time she didn't have to leave the room after the opening of presents on Christmas morning but was allowed to stay and partake of the luncheon buffet set up in the library. And when the family was called from the drawing room to enter the dining room for the evening meal, Sybil happily walked, well maybe hopped might be a better expression, into the dining room to take her seat next to her mother. If she noticed the glares her grandmother Violet kept throwing her way, especially when she picked up the wrong fork or filled her plate with a little too much cranberry sauce or when she spoke up to comment on how good the turkey tasted, she didn't let them damper her enthusiasm.

However, Violet couldn't keep still when Sybil, taking potatoes from a platter held by Thomas, told the footman how very nice he looked and that she hoped he had a nice Christmas. Yet if Violet thought her comments would still the child she was surprised when Sybil, seemingly unperturbed, replied everyone should have a nice Christmas and that Thomas was indeed a very nice looking man.

 **1913**

He was glad the long day was finally over. It had been like no other Christmas in his life for this was the first time that Tom wasn't with his family on Christmas day and he couldn't pretend that he hadn't missed them.

His lordship had allowed Tom to use one of the motor cars to drive to Ripon to attend midnight mass on Christmas Eve but rather than finding comfort in the familiar service or hearing the unmistakable accents of his fellow countrymen, it only reinforced his longing for home and his family.

The festive atmosphere in the servants hall while they enjoyed their wonderful lunch only made Tom yearn for the familiar cooking of his ma and the sound of the fiddles, pipes and bodhran played by his uncles and cousins that filled the Branson house with the sounds of lively Irish tunes on Christmas evening.

After taking old lady Grantham home, Tom retired to his cottage. Happily discarding his jacket, waistcoat and tie and unbuttoning the top couple of buttons on his shirt, Tom poured himself a drink from a bottle of Irish whiskey he kept on hand but drank from sparingly, and settled in the one comfortable lounge chair in the cottage to open his gifts from home.

He had only opened the first gift, a beautiful gray knitted jumper that he knew his mother had made, when there was a faint knocking on the door. After debating whether or not he could just ignore it, Tom warily opened the door finding to his astonishment Lady Sybil standing there.

Sybil looked no less surprised than Tom when she realized his state of undress. Tom couldn't help but smirk as he noticed the young lady's eyes gaze on his chest.

"Did you need something milady" Tom asked.

Finally tearing her eyes away from his chest and up to his face Sybil faintly replied "I … I thought … Branson …" Tom was quite amused at seeing Sybil flustered even if it was only momentarily.

"I know it's your first Christmas away from home Branson and I thought … I wanted …" Sybil held out a small basket containing a tin of Irish tea, a loaf of soda bread, and some cheese. "I hope this makes you feel a little less homesick."

Taking the basket that Sybil offered him, Tom was overcome with emotion at her thoughtfulness and found himself uttering a simple "thank you." Sybil nodded and turned to leave. She had taken a few steps when Tom called out "maybe you could join me in the garage tomorrow for tea."

Sybil turned around, she looked hesitant as if trying to decide how to answer, then smiling warmly at him said "I think that would be lovely Branson."

Suddenly Tom no longer felt quite so homesick.

 **1918**

It was over! It had been just over a month ago that peace had been declared; after four long years the war was finally over. Downton hadn't yet totally returned to normal for there were still convalescing soldiers in residence although their number had been greatly decreased and with no new patients arriving it was thought that everything would be back to normal shortly after in the new year.

 _Back to normal._ How Sybil had come to hate that phrase for it meant a return to life as if nothing had mattered these past four years but for Sybil the world had changed and more importantly she had changed. This Christmas was a season of contemplation for Sybil. She had to decide if, and how, she was to embrace those changes.

He was reading a poem from the book one of his sisters had sent him when he heard the garage door open bringing a sudden chill into the otherwise warm room. Looking up from his book, his face broke out in a wide smile when he saw her standing there.

She noted the quizzical look he gave her seeing her dressed in her nursing uniform although without the head scarf. "I told them I had to go to the hospital" she said by way of explanation.

"It is Christmas day you know, I'm not sure one should tell such stories" he chuckled.

"Oh but I did go to the hospital" she said sounding serious. "I dropped off a plate of biscuits."

"Judging from the size of that basket you're holding it must have been a huge plate of biscuits."

Sybil glanced down at the basket in her hands "Well I might have said I'd take some of the leftovers from our luncheon but" she looked up at Tom with that mischievous grin that he had come to know so well "it seems I forgot to leave those at the hospital."

He shook his head as he laughed out loud.

"And may I ask why you are out of uniform in the afternoon?" Merriment was evident in her voice. She had noticed that although he was wearing his uniform trousers and white shirt, his waistcoat, tie and jacket had been replaced with a lovely green patterned jumper.

"I believe Mr. Carson stated the staff had the afternoon off today. Thought I'd take advantage and show off my Christmas present." He twirled around. "I think I look quite good in it."

Now it was Sybil's turn to roll her eyes. "Should you display such vanity on Christmas day?"

"I'm not being vain milady" he responded quite cheekily. "I'm just stating a fact." His preening caused Sybil to burst out laughing in a most unlady like way.

"Well the jumper is beautiful. Your mother does lovely work."

"And what makes you think it's from my mother and not some lass in the village who has her eye on me?" he smirked.

A moment of panic did set in Sybil, had she kept him waiting too long she briefly wondered. For Tom, seeing the look on Sybil's face, gave him hope once again that she was in love with him.

She quickly raised her head in that haughty way that so reminded Tom of her sister Lady Mary "Well if it was a lass from the village I'm not sure she'd appreciate you wearing it to entertain another woman. So I guess I should take my basket and go elsewhere." She turned as if leaving.

Tom rushed to her, his hand reaching out and touching her arm. "Sybil" he called softly. She turned towards him, her eyes looking straight into his before giggling causing him to laugh also.

"If you'll make the tea, I'll set out the food."

"Even on Christmas day you're giving me orders" Tom chuckled.

As always the conversation flowed freely between the lady and the chauffeur for in the garage they were just Tom and Sybil and it had been like that for years. After finally having their fill of the goodies Sybil had brought, she reached into her basket and pulled out a small package wrapped in red paper with a big white bow.

"Merry Christmas Tom" she said as she handed him the package. Tom smiled as he took the present from her and in return handed her a large parcel wrapped in plain brown paper. "Merry Christmas Sybil"

Tom was surprised at his gift since he usually received a book from Sybil but this time the box held two beautiful silk ties and a pair of silver cuff links.

Sybil gasped when she opened her parcel and saw a gorgeous blue shawl. "Oh Tom" she began "it's beautiful."

"I thought the blue would look lovely on you. It matches your eyes."

"But Tom … it's too …"

He interrupted her before she could finish. "My mother made it. I wanted …" he stood up and took several paces. "I wanted to give you something nice … something to remember me by."

She looked at him puzzled. "Tom …"

"This is my last Christmas here Sybil. The war is over and you'll soon give me your decision. Whatever that decision is I'll be going back home to Ireland. With all my heart Sybil I hope you'll be going with me."

He looked at her with such love and hope that her heart seemed to skip several beats. "But if not, if you decide you can't then I wanted you to have something to remember me by."

 **1968**

They sat side by side on the sofa in the front parlor of their cottage, the fire in the fireplace warming the room, the glow of the Christmas lights on the tree lighting the room. It was a comfortable room in a cozy cottage near the sea outside of Dublin. They hadn't lived here that long, only a couple of years since they had both retired.

Their children and grandchildren had returned to their homes. Some had spent Christmas Eve and Christmas day with them while others had just come for Christmas day filling with cottage with joy and much laughter.

The room they were in suddenly seemed so quite without the children. There was no evidence of the chaos of the day when gifts were opened and paper and bows strewn throughout the room, when the room had been filled with people eating for the dining room was too small to accommodate everyone so dinner was served buffet style, now everything was neat and orderly.

Now it was just the two of them, sitting on the sofa, sipping whiskey. His arm was wrapped around her shoulders while her head rested on his chest, his chin touching the top of her head. She pulled her blue shawl a little tighter.

"It was a wonder day"

"Aye it was love."

"Do you think Rory will propose to Molly?"

"I think we'll have a wedding as well as a birth to look forward to this coming year. I can't believe Shannon is pregnant. We're going to be greatgrandparents!"

"We're getting old Tom."

"Speak for yourself lass" he said as he fingered her shawl. He didn't see the dark hair with the touches of gray or the faint wrinkles around her eyes. He could still picture the day he had given her this shawl. She was still as beautiful as she had been then.

"Tom could you get some of that …"

As it had for over fifty years now the conversation flowed so easily between the two. 

_Thanks for taking the time to read this story and special thanks to those who have left reviews. I wish you all a very happy holiday season. Hau'oli Lanui!_


	6. Fun and Games

**1895**

Saturday was not a day of rest for the working men of Dublin including Tom's father. While Daniel Branson worked long hours on week days, it wasn't unusual for him to leave the house before six in the morning and not return till six in the evening, on Saturdays he worked a half-shift meaning he was home around noon. On this Saturday he had eaten his lunch and then hurried to his workshop in the small back yard of the Branson house.

The workshop was actually a small shed with a lone window underneath which sat a long table that ran almost the length of one side of the building. On the far left side of the table were a collection of bottles and tins containing sundry items like nails, buttons, and knobs while a collection of tools hung from pegs tacked into the wall. Much of the shed was filled with wooden crates and boxes as well as tin boxes all of various sizes, scrap pieces of metal, pieces of wood, and bits and bobs from who knows what maybe part of a latch or a railing or a horseshoe as well as items like broken chairs, a baby carriage, an iron gate, all of which were no longer being used whether because they were no longer needed or because they were broken. In this neighborhood one didn't throw away unused or broken items but rather stored them in their sheds lest any part of said item could one day be used for another purpose. Many of the toys the Branson children played with were cannibalized from such bits and bobs.

When Daniel Branson emerged from his workshop he carried a bulky cotton bag with three wooden slats visibly sticking up. Although the sun was shining brightly, the air was cool mainly due to the winds blowing fairly steadily which was just perfect for what Daniel had in mind.

It was unusual for their father to take them to one of Dublin's parks and the four oldest Branson children were thrilled to have such a treat on this Saturday afternoon. All had noted the cotton bag that their Da was carrying and the walk to the park centered on guessing what it contained with four year old Tommy weighing in that it was wooden swords.

Once inside the park, Daniel Branson led his children past the area with flower beds that come June would be a dazzling display of colorful blooms and into the wide open field that comprised most of the park. Since it was late afternoon and the sun was now drifting in and out of clouds making the chill in the air more pronounced, the field was almost deserted which suited Daniel's purpose.

Laying the cotton bag on the ground, he smiled at little Tommy who was jumping from one foot to another in anticipation of what the bag held. The excitement on his face faded into a frown as he looked at the wooden and cloth contraption his father now held.

"It's a kite Tom" Daniel spoke as he handed the kite to his oldest son Michael who knowingly took it and began running across the field. Tom watched in amazement as the odd looking object was lifted by the wind far into the air. He clapped his hands as Michael made the kite dip and then rise again.

Daniel then pulled out two more kites and handed them to Katie and Deaglan. Tom clapped as he watched two more kites go up in the air and then turning to his father, his eyes expectant with the hope of one more kite.

"So you think you can follow Michael and Katie and Deaglan?" his father asked while Tom vigorously shook his head up and down in response.

Reaching into the bag, Daniel pulled out a small kite much to Tom's excitement. Fearing that Tom wouldn't be able to hold onto the string, Daniel wrapped the end of the string around Tom's wrist so the kite wouldn't fly off. For the next hour Tom ran up and down the field, his kite dipping to the ground and then bounding up into the air over and over again while the four year old giggled with delight.

 **1898**

 _Dublin_

Tom was so excited he was the first one awake in the small bedroom he shared with his two older brothers. Since there was no clock in the bedroom, Tom crept down the stairs to the parlor to read the time on the clock sitting on the fireplace mantle. As he reached the bottom of the staircase he heard voices coming from the kitchen. Forgetting all about looking at the clock, Tom bounded into the kitchen to find his father sitting at the table drinking tea while his mother was standing at the counter making sandwiches.

The seven year old neglected the usual morning greetings instead plowing into what was foremost on his mind. "Da is it time to get ready yet?"

His mother couldn't help chuckling at Tom's enthusiasm. Since yesterday when Daniel Branson announced at dinner that the family would be going to the seaside today, Tom had been the most excited of all the Branson children. Recalling their trip from last summer which he fondly called his best day ever, he had immediately begun talking about all the things he planned on doing, from plunging into the sea to dodging the waves breaking on the shoreline to building a sand castle that would withstand the incoming surf to walking on the sand looking for shells, as well as what tasty treats he hoped they'd eat.

 _Long Island, New York_

Cora sat on the blanket and watched as Mary and Edith ran up to the water's edge and then tried outrunning the incoming surf. To her delight the girls were happily darting in and out of the water, their squeals of delight as the water rushed over their bare feet a rare moment of camaraderie between the too often bickering sisters.

Three year old Sybil contentedly sat on the blanket beside her mother filling a bucket with sand and then flinging the bucket upside down emptying it of sand. A particularly loud squeal by Edith, causing Cora to thank heavens Violet wasn't here to witness that most unlady like behavior, caught Sybil's attention who suddenly decided to join in the fun with her sisters.

Running on her chubby little legs towards the water, Sybil didn't quite realize the idea was to not let the incoming surf catch you and she ran right into the water. Her sisters and mother looked on in horror as the strong, that is strong compared to a three year old, push of the incoming water knocked her on her bum. Sybil's mouth opened in a perfect circle and her eyes widened in disbelief as the incoming water raced over her legs. As the water then ebbed back over Sybil, her lower lip quivered and her hands now balled into fists, dug into the sand as if she feared the water would take her with it. Racing to rescue her daughter, Cora wrapped her arms around Sybil's chest and lifted her up and out of the water. Sitting her down on the dry sand, Sybil looked up at her mother, giggled and immediately took off for the water's edge.

And so the afternoon went with the girls racing in and out of the water, making footprints and handprints in the wet sand and then watching in delight as the water erased all traces of their presence, building a sandcastle which Sybil kept stepping on much to her sisters' annoyance.

It was thought Cora a wonderful afternoon where for once she wasn't Lady Grantham but rather Cora Levinson that girl from Ohio enjoying a day out with her daughters.

 **1899**

Normally a model student, Tom had fidgeted all day. Usually one of the most attentive students it was obvious to everyone that Tom Branson's mind was somewhere other than in the classroom. When the final bell rang, Tom bolted out of the room. He stood outside the school, anxiously jumping from one foot to the other, waiting for his brothers so the three of them could walk home together.

As soon as he spotted his brothers, he called out "Uncle Desmond should be there" and took off practically at a full trot. Desmond was a merchant seaman who had last visited his sister Aileen and her family almost a year ago before sailing to the Orient. During that time he had sent postcards and letters describing the places he visited which especially captured the interest and imagination of young Tommy Branson.

Far into the night, the Branson clan was mesmerized by Desmond's stories of monkeys and elephants, pagodas and temples, rain forests and tea planations, of water so blue and clear one could see coral and fish of bright reds, oranges, and yellows. His gifts of silk scarves and robes and slippers drew oohs and ahs while a canister of tea and packets of spices drew a much more restrained reception.

But for Tom his greatest gift was the well-worn copy of _Kidnapped_ that Uncle Desmond had read on the long voyage. It was the first book that Tom could ever call his own.

 **1902**

Edith was laying on her bed reading a book when out of the corner of her eye she thought she saw something move. Looking up she saw her bedroom door was being slowly and quietly pushed until it was opened just enough to allow Sybil to slip through the door before quickly closing it again.

Sybil tiptoed across the room until she was standing beside Edith's bed. "Edith you're not mad at me are you?" faintly pleaded the younger sister. "I didn't mean to get us in trouble."

Although Edith's first inclination was to scold her sister for violating their punishment, she was moved by the despondent look on Sybil's face. She also knew that unlike Mary, Sybil wasn't mean spirited.

"I know you didn't mean to" Edith meekly responded earning her one of Sybil's beaming smiles.

"Good!" Sybil exclaimed as she jumped up on Edith's bed. "It was fun wasn't it?"

Edith had to laugh. She and Sybil were confined to their rooms yet Sybil blatantly and blithely chose to ignore that punishment. She wished she had some of Sybil's insouciance.

"I've been thinking …" Sybil laid back on the bed. "Next time we should …"

 **1904**

Sybil was bored which was something most anyone who looked at the Downton nursery would find perplexing for the nursery held such a variety of toys and games. She was pretty much alone these days in the nursery with her sisters deeming they were too old for childish games.

Looking around the nursery Sybil sighed as she saw the shelf lined with porcelain dolls whose dresses made of finest silks or soft lightweight cottons trimmed with lace or velvet or beading would have been appropriate for the toddler Sybil to wear. She wrinkled her brow and shrugged her shoulders as she looked at the shelf of board games which were almost impossible to play with her sisters because inevitably the game would end with them fighting over the other's supposed cheating. The child size table with the cups and saucers of a china tea set perfectly placed at each chair had no appeal to her nor did the three level doll house filled with miniature furniture making the rooms resemble the interior of Downton.

She climbed up on the window seat and looked out at the wide expanse of lawn far below the window. In the distance she saw Mary making her way on her horse back to the stables. Suddenly, realizing what she wanted, Sybil darted out of the room and ran to find her father.

She came into the library like a tornado stopping only when she reached her papa who was sitting at his desk. Hearing her before seeing her, Robert stopped his writing and, with a gleam in his eye and a sly smile on his face, looked at his youngest daughter as she made her way across the room.

"Papa" Sybil breathlessly spoke as she stood before him her eyes full of excitement. "I'd like to get a bicycle."

He had thought he knew what to expect after having Mary and Edith but Sybil was proving to be so different from her sisters.

"Heavens!" he chortled. "A bicycle?" Sybil vigorously nodded her head.

"Well …" he looked at the angelic face with the bright blue eyes pleading with him and he knew that afternoon would find him in a bicycle shop in Ripon.

 **1913**

As soon as her ladyship and her daughters had entered the dress shop, Tom took a short stroll up and down the street stopping just long enough to glance into some of the shop windows but never wandering into any shops. Returning to the motor car Tom thought the weather was too pleasant to sit in the car waiting for his passengers to return so with no nearby benches, Tom made himself comfortable leaning against the motor car and began reading his book.

"Do you spend all your spare moments reading?" her pleasant voice, so deep and husky reminding him of a fine whiskey, took him by surprise since he hadn't heard her approaching footsteps.

Immediately closing his book, he stood straight up and smiled at her. "It does help pass the time" he replied pleasantly.

She nodded as she leaned over to read the book's title recognizing the author, John Locke, as a political philosopher of much interest to Branson. When it was just the two of them in the motor car they had begun talking politics which had now broaden into books on politics and history.

"Do you ever read anything just for fun?"

"Are you saying this isn't fun reading?" he replied with that cheeky grin she was beginning to find so appealing.

"Don't you just sometimes what to be taken away into another world?" He looked at her quizzically. "I mean …" she hesitated trying to formulate her thoughts "through stories of a time or place that you haven't been to. Like hunting for big game in Africa or exploring the American wild west."

Before he could answer her, he noticed her mother and sisters making their way to the motor car. It would be days before they would be alone in the motor car. As he drove her towards Ripon, he slowed the motor car and reached for the book he had been carrying around for days hoping to show her.

She furrowed her brows as she took the book he was offering her. From the slightly torn edges and she could tell it was a well read book.

Tom smiled at her reflection in the rear view mirror as he saw her eyes light up as she read the title _Kidnapped_.

"I love this book" she exclaimed "and judging by the cover you do too."

"It's the first book I ever owned." She looked up from the book and saw the wistful look on his face. "My uncle gave it to me when he returned home from one of his sea voyages. Said it had helped passed the time when they were out in the ocean."

"And do you own any other books of his? Robert Louis Stevenson I mean … not your uncle."

"Actually the only books I've ever owned were ones my uncle gave me. Not that there were many … only five or six … but I left the others at home for my sisters to read."

"So what are the other books you own?"

"And why are you so interested in the books I own?"

She laughed. "Well it's nice to know you can be frivolous in your reading."

"Frivolous? I'll have you know _Kidnapped_ is a serious story … with much political overtones … rebellion …"

She rolled her eyes and sighed "So I guess there's no The Hound of the Baskervilles or The Virginian. You need to broaden your world Branson" she teased.

 **1914**

Tom usually spent his half days off exploring the vast Downton estate. His walks took him to gently rolling green hills with grazing sheep, deep woods that blazed red and gold and orange in the fall, and fields blooming with summer wildflowers. Having lived all his life in a city, he was amazed at how varied the Downton landscape was.

"Are you sure this is the road?" Tom asked looking at the dirt road that veered off from the main road and into the woods. It was a couple of weeks after Sybil had learned of his half day off walks when, walking home after a visit to one of the tenant farms, she found him sitting underneath a giant oak tree reading a book.

She nodded her head "of course I'm sure."

He slightly shook his head as he turned the motor car onto the dirt road hoping there would be no rocks or potholes that would damage the car. When the road turned into more of a dirt track he stopped the car and turned to face her. "I don't think it's safe for the car to go any further."

"We can walk … it's not much further actually" Sybil responded as she grabbed the large bag she had brought and opened the passenger door.

As they walked along the dirt track Tom wondered why she thought this would be of interest to him. "You probably haven't gotten up here on your walks around the estate" she spoke as if able to read his mind. "It's always been one of my favorite places."

The woods ended suddenly in a clearing on the top of a hill from which one had a magnificent view of the house and its surrounding grounds with the gardens in the foreground and woods and hills in the distance. It was like a bird's eye view across the field to the house looking even more imposing in size with one able to see three sides of it as well as its various roof tops.

"My father would bring me up here in the horse cart" Sybil stated as pulled her coat a bit tighter across her chest as if to ward off the sudden chill brought by the winds. "I think it's his favorite spot on the estate."

"But what I liked most about here was this." Tom watched as Sybil pulled a brightly colored object out of her bag. It wasn't until she unfurled it that he realized it was a kite. "I would spend what seemed like an hour just running across this ridge flying this … well not this particular kite of course."

Tom smiled as remembered that long ago day with his father. "My Dad once took me to the park to fly kites. I had never seen one before."

Sybil smiled. "Good then you know what to do" she said as she pulled a second kite from her bag and handed it to him.

Once they were tired of running across the field competing with each other as to which kite flew the highest or who could make their kite dip closest to the ground without touching it, they sat on the ground talking about their childhoods. Sybil had never heard of many of the games that Tom played on the streets with his friends. He had never seen croquet. She was amazed that most of toys he had were made by his Dad. He wondered why anyone would enjoy playing tea party and sneered at the thought of china sets just for children.

He laughed as she recounted the time she threw a ball so hard it actually dented the wall and knocked down a painting and broke a vase and that one of her favorite games was to drop a ball at the top of the stairs and then try to beat it to the bottom, the playing of which ended when one day she slipped and sprained her ankle. _That sounds like something I would play_ he remarked. But he laughed hardest as she told him aboutthe time she and Edith stood on one of the turrets and threw horseshoes, which she explained took her an hour to haul enough up there, at a target on the ground below. _I thought it would make the game more exciting from there_ she had explained to her angry father.

Tom thought he had never spent a more wonderful afternoon at Downton.

 **1923**

"Higher Daddy" Aisling shouted as her father lifted her up. Tom and Sybil, each one holding one of Aisling's arms, would lift her up as a wave came towards shore causing her to squeal in delight as the wave passed under her toes. Tom was surprised how fearless Aisling seemed in the water but then he realized she was the combination of both her parents.

Wanting to take a break and sit down, Sybil hoped to distract her daughter from the water by stating "I think it's time for a sandwich."

"Just one more Mommy" Aisling called out. Tom looked over Aisling head to his wife and quietly mouthed "remind you of someone?"

"Remember Aisling we're going for an ice cream cone after we eat our sandwiches." Aisling looked up at her mother and grinned. "Ice cream!

Tom and Sybil sat contentedly on their blanket. "There's something about the sea air that makes me hungry" Tom announced as he set his empty plate down.

Sybil chuckled as she looked at the almost empty picnic basket "I thought I packed enough for dinner too or at least tea but …"

"I'll have you know it's a Branson tradition to buy dinner at one of those sidewalk stalls so I wouldn't want any food you brought to go to waste."

Sybil leaned over and patted Tom's stomach. "Are you sure you'll have room?"

"Of course my dear" Tom answered cheekily. "I will be busy building a castle this afternoon so I imagine I'll be quite hungry."

As if on cue Aisling stood up and grabbed her father's arm pulling on him to get up.

"Aisling dear maybe your daddy can build a castle that looks like Grandpa's house."

Tom shook his head. "Oh no. This will be like a real castle with a moat."

"Like a princess castle" Aisling clapped her hands.

Tom scooped up his daughter. "A princess castle for my princess."

"And I thought I married a socialist" Sybil retorted.


	7. Trees and Ornaments

**1897**

Although he supported himself and his family with his work keeping the city trams up and running, Daniel Branson's passion was woodworking. He had turned the shed in the back yard of the Branson home into his work shop. He repaired old furniture and even built some smaller pieces of furniture to earn extra money but he was limited by the tools he could afford as well as the raw materials. Much of the work he did using discarded pieces of furniture or wood that he'd find and bring home. From these materials he'd make intricately carved small wooden boxes or toys or as he was doing now Christmas ornaments.

"So what shape do you want?" Daniel asked his six year old son Tommy.

Tommy stood there in the workshop, rubbing his hand on his chin while he thought about it. He wanted something extra special for his mother but he had to admit he wasn't quite sure what that would be.

"A circle or triangle or maybe star shaped" Daniel suggested.

Tommy shrugged in shoulders. None of those things sounded quite special enough. His mind was churning with those things associated with Christmas: angels, bells, wreaths, mangers, the wisemen, camels.

"I want something that says Christmas" Tom finally responded.

Daniel peered at his son. "You just want to write Merry Christmas on a block of wood?"

Tommy inhaled deeply. "No Da. I want something that she'll know is part of Christmas like an angel or a manger or the wisemen."

Daniel shook his head, this was going to be more complicated than he thought and certainly beyond Tommy's capabilities.

"Since this is your first try son how about we do something fairly easy? How about something that is a pretty shape and we paint it like those pretty glass ornaments?" Daniel suggested.

After mulling this over Tom finally agreed. Under his father's guidance, and more than occasional help, Tom crudely chiseled and carved the piece of wood into something vaguely resembling a snowflake. After Daniel ensured that Tom had sanded all the rough edges, he pronounced it ready to paint. Here again Tom had a hard time deciding on what color to use until he came up with the idea to use all the different colors to make something bright and colorful.

It was definitely a one of a kind ornament but his mother was thrilled as only mothers can be. To Moira Branson it was beautiful and she treasured it.

 **1899**

The package came from their Grandmother in New York. Nestled among the brightly wrapped boxes that were to be opened on Christmas day, were three smaller boxes with a note to be opened now. Although her sisters took care to open their boxes without tearing the wrapping paper, three year old Lady Sybil Crawley tore open her elegantly wrapped box destroying not only the paper, which was now in small bits and pieces scattered on the floor around her, but much of the box itself.

Sybil gasped when she saw the shiny large silver bell laying on the blue velvet lining. "It's beautiful" she pronounced as she pulled it out of the remains of the box. That it jingled as she pulled it only made her more delighted.

Swinging it by its red velvet ribbon, Sybil giggled as the bell jingled. She'd make one large swoop of the ribbon, then she'd shake it as fast as she could.

"Sybil dear it's not a toy but an ornament for the tree" Cora injected. She loved her youngest daughter's exuberance and hated to curb it but sometimes she had to.

Cora reached for the bell. "See here" Cora pointed with her index finger "it's engraved with your name S…Y…B…I…L."

Sybil ran her little fingers on the engraving.

Much to Sybil's displeasure, her mother insisted Sybil hang the bell on the tree.

"But I want to hear it" she insisted and it was with great reluctance that she finally hung the ornament on the tree.

If Cora had later looked carefully at the tree, she might have noticed the silver bell ornament was no longer hanging there.

 **1903**

As he did most mornings, Robert was at his desk in the library attending to his correspondence. The stillness of the room was suddenly shattered by seven year old Sybil who scampered into the room.

Coming to a stop beside her father she blurted out "Papa. When are you going to put up the Christmas tree?"

"Now Sybil you know we put the tree up around the 20th."

"But Papa that seems so late. I think now would be a good time." It took all his willpower not to chuckle at her seriousness.

"You do?"

Sybil vigorously bobbed her head up and down.

"But it just turned December yesterday" Robert replied.

"Well when something is so beautiful we should have plenty of time to enjoy it."

Robert lifted Sybil off the floor and sat her on his lap. "If we cut it too early it will dry out and shrivel by the time Christmas gets here. You wouldn't want that would you?"

Sybil shook her head no but Robert could tell she was disappointed.

"It's a big decision to pick the right tree. What if this afternoon we go looking at trees and see what our choices are?"

Sybil brightened at the idea.

"We can't chop it down today but we can pick which one."

Sybil jumped off her father's lap. "I'll go get my coat and hat. I'll be right back" she called out as she ran towards the library door.

Robert watched as Sybil raced out the door. He looked down at his paperwork and shook his head. "Looking at Christmas trees will be more fun than this" he mumbled as he stood up.

Four hours later a very cold Robert returned to the library. They had only covered about a third of the area he had in mind for Sybil was taking quite seriously the task of finding the right tree. In his eyes they all seemed pretty much the same but his daughter saw it much differently. It just might take them till the 20th to find the right one he thought.

 **1912**

Since old lady Carragh spent Christmas Eve and day at her daughter's house in Dublin, Tom was able to spend the time with his family. His sisters were anxiously waiting for him to arrive home because he was to take them out to get the Christmas tree. He had barely made it in the through the door when they began putting on their hats and coats.

"We've been waiting for ages Tommy"

"We need to hurry before all the trees are gone."

"All the good ones are probably gone already."

His sisters' voices filled the hallway.

"Might I at least say hello to Ma?" Tom asked.

"She's not here" Maeve breezily responded.

Less than thirty minutes later they were back at the Branson house with a rather scrawny tree. "It will fill out with the ornaments and tinsel" ever the optimist Cara declared.

The evening was filled with laughter as the Bransons decorated the tree. The ornaments were an odd assortment of stars, angels, and balls mostly homemade of tin, wood or paper with a few precious glass ornaments that Mrs. Branson had inherited from aunt. Strands of red velvet or white satin ribbons were draped as garland. More tinsel ended up on the decorators than on the tree. But in the end Tom thought the tree looked prettier than any of the previous ones.

The girls had gone up to their room to change into their clothes for midnight mass leaving Tom alone with his mother.

"I can't believe you still have that" Tom said as he fingered the snowflake he had made all those years ago.

"Of course I still have it" his mother responded, her face aglow. "It will always remind me of you."

Tom handed her a small box wrapped in plain brown paper. "You should open this one now."

He watched as his mother carefully untied the green ribbon and lifted away the brown paper. Opening the lid, she smiled as she saw the small glass ornament with swirls of colorful lines running around it.

Holding it up to the light she exclaimed "it's beautiful Tom."

"A more mature version of my snowflake" he chuckled.

 **1914**

Tom was just finishing polishing the grille of the motor car when Lady Sybil breezed into the garage. Much to his delight, she had started popping into the garage just to talk although she always made excuses like she was on her way into the village or just coming back from a walk or delivering a message from a family member who wanted to use the motor car.

"So you are coming tomorrow aren't you Branson" she asked.

Wiping his hands on a clean rag, he looked rather puzzled as he had no idea what she was talking about.

"Coming where?" he asked.

"Tomorrow afternoon we decorate the tree in the Grand Hall. Everyone is invited to help" she paused and looked sheepishly around the garage before she turned back to look at him. "Only last year you didn't come."

"Well I hadn't really thought about it" he responded.

"Oh you must come. It's loads of fun" she grinned that smile that melted his heart. "When I was a child I couldn't wait for this day." She laughed. "Some might say I was a little too enthusiastic but" she tilted her head "I don't really think that's possible."

"Well I-" he started. It didn't really sound like something he wanted to do but then again he would be near her.

"There's refreshments … biscuits and cakes and eggnog."

"Well if there's eggnog" he grinned.

"Good" she clapped her hands. "So I'll see you then" and with that she breezed back out of the garage as quickly as she had come in.

He stood and stared at the huge tree that reached up to the balcony level of the aptly named Great Hall.

"If you think it's beautiful now just wait until it's lit." He was so mesmerized by the tree he wasn't even aware of Sybil's presence until she spoke to him.

She handed him a box. "I could use some help with these."

Tom thought the afternoon was a delight just because he was near her and could speak freely to her. She was enthusiastic and her enthusiasm spread to all around her. He watched as she comfortably talked to Daisy and William and the housemaids while he noticed her sisters were much more refrained and pretty much stayed off to one side.

And she was right. When the tree was lit it was a sight to behold. He wished he could take a picture to send home to his sisters. As he thought of his sisters he felt a pang of homesickness. No matter how beautiful this tree was nor how extravagant the ornaments were, he had noticed the delicate glass ones and the silver ones some even engraved like the silver bell Sybil had proudly showed him, he wished he was home in Ireland with the straggly tree and it's homemade ornaments and garlands of ribbon.

 **1919**

"Sybil it's only a tree that will be up for just a couple of days." Tom couldn't believe how much care Sybil was taking in deciding which tree to buy.

"Don't you think that one is a bit too big" he said as he looked at the one she was eyeing. "It would take up most of the room we'd have to move out the furniture."

"It's just that …" she turned to look at him "it's our first tree Tom. I want it to be special."

He leaned in and softy brushed his hand across her cheek. "It will be special just because it's our first tree."

She nodded her head. "You're right. I guess-"

"Of course I'm right" he grinned. "You did marry a very smart man."

She laughed. "Who's too full of himself sometimes."

 **1960**

"Why are these your special ornaments Grandma?" ten year old Orlaith asked.

"Because they hold special memories" Sybil replied.

Seeing the confused look on her granddaughter's face, Sybil picked up one of the ornaments from the box.

"This was the first ornament I ever picked out" she said as she held up the large tear drop shaped glass ornament. "I was five and my mother took me to the store and said I could buy any ornament I wanted and I thought this was the most beautiful one there. I loved the bright colors."

"It is beautiful Grandma."

Orlaith looked in the box. She picked up a fabric ball covered with glass beads and pearls. "I like this one."

"My grandmother Violet always put in a very small tree in her parlor and she decorated it with only this kind of balls. After she died, I took this one because it reminded me of her."

"My favorite one as a child was this silver bell" Sybil lifted the bell out of the box and shook the red ribbon causing the bell the tinkle. "I drove my sisters crazy ringing this."

Sybil laughed. "They'd try to hide it from me but I'd always find it. Then one time they put it up high on an armoire where I could see it but couldn't reach it."

"That was pretty mean of them" Orlaith remarked. "That you could see it but not touch it."

"Well I moved a chair over and stood on top of it but the chair toppled over and I sprained my ankle. Papa was so mad at them they never hid it after that."

"What about this one?" Orlaith picked up a wooden Father Christmas.

Sybil smiled. "That's the very first ornament your grandfather gave me."

" _It's not much Sybil. Not like those fancy balls you're used to. But it reminds me of the spirit of Christmas like good cheer and kindness._

Just then Tom came into the room. "What are you two up to?"

"Grandma's showing me her favorite ornaments" Orlaith replied as she pointed to the box.

Tom looked at the box. He immediately spied the 'snowflake' he had many all those years ago. "That is one of your favorite ornaments?"

He pulled it out of the box and Orlaith laughed at the rather odd looking thing.

"I'll have you know I made this when I was about five or six. Carved it all by myself."

"Really Tom?" Sybil chimed in. "All by yourself?"

"Well okay my father helped me a bit." Sybil rolled her eyes. "Well maybe more than a bit" Tom finished saying. "But I did all the painting."

"Yes that I can believe."

"My mother always said it was her favorite ornament."

"Yes she was very proud when she gave it to me."

Orlaith giggled listening to her grandparents.

The three of them spend the rest of the afternoon drinking hot chocolate and listening to Sybil explain the meaning behind each of her favorite ornaments.


End file.
